New piece I'm struggling with...Don't know if anyone is still checking on this

Just something I wanted to post... get some feedback on. :)

One Drop

We are here to put to rest

 the Millennials’ Imagination.

Convenience was cyanide

 A dash of Suri, a gulp of Google,

But Shock Value is the true culprit

Of Individuality’s demise

Like Electronic Cigs,

Temporary Tatts.

Paper towel implants,

Or when you kiss a girl

and you like it

but its just experimental... human nature,

And You hope your boyfriend don’t mind it.

Everything is cool,

As long as that tan fades.

I grew up in a tree house

The rich people’s version of roughing it

 because it was a whole,

yes a whole ten minutes away

from four michilin star restaurants.

With time, I’d learn

A black friend is an affluent white person’s pardon

To forgo the belt

And wear

LOW

RI

DER

Boutique skinny jeans

And Wide brimmed hats

meticulously turned to a 45degree angle.

 While their moms Showered 

in Channel and Tiffany tear drop diamonds

and glided in Louboutins

 like they were my light up Barbie sneaks

I was unable to read the subtext beneath

“ Are you good at hip hop dancing?” or

“Do you go to Sunday school?”

Well, the only pole was on my four-poster,

and I’m like every other daughter,

I only talk to my Father when I need something…

But back then Black

was only the name of one of my crayons.

I didn’t know then

 that the redwood trees we were surrounded by

Were future kindling for affluence’s arson

Using Jackson’s for lighters

 for a shiny new Apple, Gucci, William-Sonoma

No idea that that, we, as a society,

 dismember great oaks

Immure their remains together

Roll them up

Seal them in a machine

Rip them off

Just So they can shove them in pockets

Later dispose their wrinkled corpses

 from their designer purses

But the numbers become infused on our hands

Because a store’s slip of paper is a black person’s pardon.

When they see us

Silences are shouting at each other

Eyes are quaking in a skull

Power is written on a full-length body mirror

Lights got to SMACK it

For it to be seen

And even then it’s spelled backwards

Like natives shoved into pockets of San Jose’s skid row

Ripped off educations,

Sealed in minimum wage machines

Rolled up futures

Wanting our wrinkled corpses to be disposed

They put a suicide factory on every corner

Some of us shower in Liquid Amber

Smell like a gas station bathroom

Poverty’s arson is sparked by lit Marlboro’s  

Spreading…

Until they immure our remains in a overcrowded cemetery

White noise approaches

Chatter like wine glasses clinking—

But when they see me

Silences interrupt—

Shouting at each other

Eyes are quaking in a skull

Designed lips purse

Pearl Luxe&Lush nails caress Lincoln’s face

Disposing of him

by tossing him into my full coffee cup

Scooping Abe out to dry…

 We’re both cringing…

I go back to studying for finals…

Numbers become infused on my hands

Because a university’s slip of paper is a black person’s pardon

These numbers infused on our hands

are the days

Since we learned subtext,

At seven or eight,

When our parents told us,

“ Honey we have something to tell you…”

That Concrete will never be their bed,

Doorway their pillow,

Stars their roof,

Haunts some of us…

So we end up remaining

 In an overcrowded cemetery

Naïve ones with heavy pockets

Slowly reach--

Now their heads are leaking

Leaving silences in mid argument

Brains suffering aftershocks--

Isn’t a piece of paper supposed to be a black person’s pardon?

Power is written on a full-length body mirror

The light’s got to SMACK it

For it to be seen

And even then it’s spelled backwards

Like take a cup of milk and add one drop of chocolate

You’d call it milk…

But you take a person,

And one drop of black

 always defines them…