Before I stepped out, my son hugged me hard and said, “Make sure nobody shoots you, mommy.” My son is 7 years old. He should not have these types of worries… I guess, such is the life of a Black child… Maybe this is another reason we treat Black children as adults. By the time they are adults, they have experienced adult sizes terrors, worries and fears. Many have done adult sized work… Our babies take on way too much. We must be sure to prepare our children for the hardships of the world. But we must spoil them, love them… Make them know their worth! Do not give the world the chance to tear at their beautiful, Black souls! Do not let this world consume them. Arm them, love them. Fight with and for them. They need someone to be on their side in a world that has its back to them. In a world where no chances, no love, no NOTHING will be given to them, they need us to show them what love, softness, and forgiveness is. I never expected #JusticeForTrayvon. I just hoped against hope. #TrayvonMartin #JusticeForTrayvon #j4tm ……………………………………….. And let me say this, let somebody fuck with mine. Let a muthafucka FUCK. With. MINE. You CANNOT have my Trayvon. I will fucking torture you for days and then end you.