Today’s submission is a poem by Mira Riley, a senior Staff Reporter at the North Campus

And Still We Fall…

the dark brown blood stained concrete mimics the dark brown skin of the young boy being covered and rolled away like a ball rolls in the street

as if he isn’t somebody’s child

teardrops burned away by the hazy sun but, it’s essence still lingers

the essence left behind by another mother who watched her college bound son be carted away by those who can only mutter these measly words

“sorry for your lost”

she politely accepts this insignificant phrase but, it’s real meaning lies there with the dried up tears

sorry for what?

sorry that another young man of color has been lost to the violence of the world?

or sorry that you have to skip through that thirty second clip on the early morning news that could never truly capture this lost young life

because it’s just “too much to witness”

except you aren’t just witnessing the aftermath of his death

you are witnessing the end of a bloodline

you are witnessing a generational shift among the neighborhood teens as they organize memorials and wonder if they will be the next face on a t-shirt

you are witnessing the internal death of a mother who will forever wonder if she’s at fault

that hazy afternoon sun can dry the tears but, the memory of the fallen will forever remain

the sun will rise, the sun will set and another son will be lost.