So they say

It doesn't matter

At least, that's what the ghost told me "It doesn't matter, get over it, move along" And this too shall pass It got so redundant and annoying, I started to break the box

Push the boundaries

Exceed the limits and go beyond expected

I started to think and why doesn't it matter? Because it just doesn't


The clothes you wear, the food you eat, the education of your children, and their graceful life matters. The brands you shop, you saying "yes" v.s "stop", the places you live in, and the things you're given matters

Why not US? Because It just doesn't

That I'm not given the same education or opportunity as your child that sits in the same class as me, that my words mean nothing and

people just keep going like the wind keeps blowing and that's why I have kids in the first place...

Because they didn't hear me say "stop"

That my children don't eat and my name brand is "Good Will". That doesn't matter That I'm nothing more than a sweet piece of chocolate with a caramel center

One day

That I'm nothing more than a black fur wolf

On other days

That I'm the dirt that you stand on

Most days That I'm just another burden

On the rest of those days

They, the white chocolate, they tell me and my brethren that it doesn't matter That we are just more cogs in the machine of the supreme white capitalist country that was originally built off of my and my people's backs

And walking up the street, the ghost follows me, crosses blazing and howls grazing the ears of the dirt that they trample over. That saying something as simple as "Good morning"

Introducing that I'm actually well spoken therefore makes me an alien. That my children and their children and their children are doomed to the back of the line in class

Back of the bus

Back of the class, as the back burner shit

That I cannot work with the ghost because I'm still a member of the living. It just doesn't matter That I'm forced to live with the worst crime that the

....."United States" of America

Can put on a human head and it IS being 5 skin tones darker in complexion than my neighbors. Apparently that makes my head not a human one

Nor my children's

Nor my brethren's

It doesn't matter

That the so-called "US-of-A" should actually be called "The black man's country" The ghost boast and say "our land" while standing' on our heads while we wait at their hand, and even the foreigners call it "the white man's land" and it all doesn't matter

That the 4th of July is the Earth's tears because the ghost tells the living it doesn't matter. That's because the ghost are free of the burdens of life like the pointless winds that breaths from the Earth They float on

and we rot

Oh that's why, I inquire

Because ghosts dwell in the shadows of gray

the dirt grows flowers that make this Earth brighter every day

We do matter




This post is part of a series produced by The Huffington Post and Comprehensive Development, Inc. in conjunction with Monster Help Day, the company-wide day of volunteering for HuffPost's parent company, AOL. The author is a student at New York City's High School for Health Professions and Human Services (HPHS). Comprehensive Development, Inc. partners with HPHS to provide free, onsite college and career advising and support. Learn more about how you can be involved with these exceptional students here