Cops and Robbers by Donnovan Pollock Hampton Roads Youth Poet Laureate

From time to time I tend to have
child like tendencies
And chances are I’ll reminisce playing this game we seem to call cops and robbers
So in commemoration to a lifetime of joy and turmoil
Let’s play cops and robbers

the audience
can cop a seat
as I attempt to rob you of some attention
and hopefully more than 10 seconds to be at peace with the thief
that continues to follow me wherever my mind wanders
A.K.A my attention span

cop a mic stand and a mic
and in the process of spitting my piece

I think the audience is holding my efforts at gunpoint

I mean
All I wanted was connections between you and me with
a side of snap snaps and yass

But now I’m just the fate of a robber

Lost but often found on the evening news
See nothing’s really new
And the roles remain the same

So Cop a overdose of hormones and
Rob the virginity of a innocent queen
And hear the screams of her baby boys by age 20

And pray
that her sons don’t have to Rob a liquor store
and Cop a charge for possession of a firearm

Fire excuses and hang them at bus terminals by age 30
But their looks are going on their fifties
I mean it’s just old souls blazing in young bodies
All they can do is stop drop and roll
While Elvis
Can Cop rock and roll

And Rob an ethnicity of their innovation

The same way the Rolling Stones can watch our backs roll on a street saturated with sharpened stones stabbing our ingenuity

Then used to shattered the mural
Of creativity

never made me feel like I needed to be swept up and thrown in the trash
Its like Society’s burglars need to cop some new standards
But Rob us of our sense of vernacular
Until the use of slang
Is reduced to terms in an Oxford pocket dictionary and actually…..

Adolescents only Cop a pair of headphones
To Rob silence from a country that couldn’t Cop a muzzle

Oh how America is such a loudmouth female

Its like I should Cop some surgical tools
Rob her of some of her vocal cords
Send them to third world countries
So you can hear their cries for help
They got me tripping
They whisper prison..
They got me losing my mind
and I think that you are too

And them chips will arrive any day now and we’ll have to Cop  numbers
No, we’ll have to Cop cuffs and Wear them where our bodies used to be

We’re being robbed
Robbed of our ability to question and reason
Robbed of our thought processes
We’re losing our minds

Losing our sense the direction
Like going south could send you somewhere north
And going east could send you somewhere west

I don’t really like this childhood game that’s played everyday
But it’s played for sport against me and my culture the more I grow the more free and creative I am.
So cop some nerve
Or be robbed in this game we seem to call Cops and Robbers.

Sofia Snow