I saw a picture a few days ago. A Black man, slumped in a car, bloody and apparently dead. A hand reaches around to take his pulse. No one will say his name.

This year, many thousands of Black men will die violently across America, most at the hands of another Black man. I'll tell you about one who died just recently. He was cousin to my mentee Marcus Hunter, whom some of you have read about. They were months apart in age. The deceased was 18. He's been to my home repeatedly, and I to his. Marcus returned from the University of Arizona for the weekend and spoke at his cousin's funeral at New Bethel Baptist Church.

His name was Emmanuel; his nickname, "E." Here are a few verses in his honor.

We witnessed their deaths
When there was a camera
And because you saw them,
You changed your agenda.
And because of your passion,
We chant Black Lives Matter
But you don't see me

The cameras are aimed
At police misbehavior
And everyone has one,
Cops wear them by order.
So you see all the victims
Harmed by each violator
But you don't see me

Thanks for your passion,
All the marches you filled
On behalf of the 13 —
Unarmed, the police killed
But what of the thousands,
Black males killed by neighbors
Can't you see me?

I'm a friend of George Floyd
That he lost in the 9th grade
I'm the two in the 10th,
The 11th and 12th grade
In the wrong place at the wrong time,
Or shot while just living
So you don't see me

I was a successful student,
A pregnant young mother
A husband, a son,
A funny teenager.
And yes, I was Black,
Does my Black life matter
If you don't see me?

Will your Question 2
Prevent our trauma?
How will they save me
From being shot by my brother?
Are you moved just from footage
Captured on video?
'Cause you won't see me

Is there someone with footage
Of my trampoline bounce
Or anyone captured
My last McNugget ounce
I'm sure if you saw me
Shot inside my house
Then you might see me.

Don Samuels, of Minneapolis, is a former City Council member, former school board member and CEO of Microgrants.