Diary of a Black Man

Diary of a Black Man
Photo by Bradyn Shock / Unsplash

Dear Diary,

Another day, another dollar.

Another bullet, another soul.

Just another day.

My name is Anuoluwa.

Don’t call me AO.

A name given by the Almighty.

A name beyond a call or identification.

A name with a calling of destination.

It’s more than a name.

Anuoluwa, God’s Mercy.


Violence done to us and by us.

We fear the police as much as we fear our own.


Black Lives Matter!

Black lives matter to who?

They must matter to us first.

Take responsibility!

Be your brother’s keeper, not your brother’s killer.


I’m black. Being black means I’m a visible object but an invisible subject. Due to my pigmentation, I am identified but my soul disregarded.


Perplexed at how I could be visibly invisible. My flesh screams to be heard; “I want to be seen and not just looked at. Heard and not just listened to. Acknowledge me!”


See me. Hear me. Feel me.


Another day, another tear

Another day, another triumph.

Just another day.


Written Piece,

by Josa