Why Am I Here Poem by Sojourner Kincaid Rolle

To remind you
Of the innocent child

Of the promise
Unfulfilled

To remind you
Of Yusuf Hawkins

Reminding you
Of Emmitt Till

Of four girls swaddled
In unheralded graves

Young unwitting warriors
Forgotten

Of infant trees
On forsaken lots

Cut in stride
Toward the dream

Young blood reddening
Mississippi mud

Alabama clay
New York streets

Young hearts
Stilled mid-beat

Tender memories
Waiting

Tragic martyrs
Shining