What happens when all the advocates are gone, and those who profit Unknowingly from battles fought by others, must learn to cope Without The hope Of realizing change? Then, The ones whom martyrdom didn’t spare, Will no longer be enslaved by the victims Who took for granted their wares And the rest will be left Questioning their fates. But those who sought their downfall, while victorious, Will find the only game they won was hate.
Of Alchemy and Irony
Is there still time to make something From the impending dread? When every combination Produces yet another Form of lead, Slowing progress with Its predictable weight, While the true value of currency is forced to sit and stagnate – Knowing it can work for good, knowing it’s been misunderstood – Hoping for systemic change, before it’s finally too late.
Who We Are
We are the terrorists, Who condone the murders of Innocent children on their school buses, or Lock them away from parents and loved ones, Giving them a foil-blanket Substitute for comfort. We are the unreasonable, Who close off Our safe harbors— The same ones our ancestors Were offered— From others. We are the presumptuous, Supposing the world Will keep giving to us Without repercussions For our actions, while we Continue our greedy consumption. This is what it means To be American, In the land who shot the man Who said, “We shall overcome!” So, if this is who we are, Who, then, shall we become?
©2021 Samantha Terrell
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