![Logo [no bckg].png](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/bc3426_9c66033d9a6d44feb2d5938f6a14a668~mv2_d_4167_4167_s_4_2.png/v1/crop/x_0,y_725,w_4167,h_2718/fill/w_161,h_105,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/Logo%20%5Bno%20bckg%5D.png)
Illustration: Zoe Yibowei, Arts Editor
I know I think of running
I know I dream of jumping
Swore I would be somebody
That we would make something
What do they think of us
Do they enjoy our blood
Taste what we’re made of
That’s a lot more than you thought
I can’t breathe
Can’t breathe
Officer?
He can’t breathe
Do you know the mistake that you made
That you painted his grave
With the remnants of slaves instead of judging how he behaves
You judge how he was made
Can’t you see we’re the same
It’s not the last time we pray
We cry
We scream for change
The one that was promised upon that stage
Dr King spoke on
We can no longer wait
We still have a dream
To make reality
We still have a dream
Despite this insanity
We still have a dream
As we march the streets
We still have a dream
We just want to breathe
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