I abhor the nonsense strung along with ability and age.
The consequence of being prevented by society
And their views of when and where.
Their say-so rings in my head
Impairing my ears and breaking their drums.
I cannot stand to be told how to use my ability.
Yes, there are things that certain ages should not practice;
Things that protect innocence and virtue.
But who are you to tell me that I cannot do?
Who are you to tell me I cannot sing,
While my voice was built
To sing alongside the angels' trumpets?
Who are you to tell me that I cannot stand for my beliefs
And have faith in places or people
Because there is no faith in you.
Who are you to confine my ability?
To rip my privileges from within my grasp
And make them yours.
To create a barrier between my freedom and dreams,
To decide that I as a child may not protest against
The thing I believe to be wrong?
Stop me from breaking my innocence within mind.
I dare you, because to stop me, you must show me how
As a child in this day, my mind is naive.
When I see rape and murder on the news,
Death and detest gushing out on the street.
Not through violence.
Yet thought the innocent child, who could have been,
Would have been me,
Bleeding and dying in his mother's arms.
How is it that you can tell me to remain silent,
At times like these, where war is outspoken
And amity is on mute.
My television shows crime.
My heart screams for peace.
I feel it in my bones,
In my flesh and identity,
Gathered in my DNA,
That I can make a difference.
Yet you sit here.
Blocking me.
Removing my right
As a child to speak
For the unspoken.
To sing
For the dumb.
To cry for the fearful.
And to stand for those uncounted for.
