The names and faces of people from places are blurred out in my mind.
How can you not remember years of your life?
How can you not see you're surviving with hope instead of strife?
Cruel words and cruel people make up only a small portion of our existence.
The hearts of light and love and laughter let us know the difference.
We're rowdy, we're loud and obnoxiously proud, of our differences.
How can you not see we celebrate our trials and grievances.
Our pain is a painting, a weapon, a song.
Our hurt is only a part of our stories that blare on strong.
We are loud and obnoxious and proud of who we are.
How dare you tell us to silence what it is that we've worked so hard for?!
Our blades have been sharpened, and our songs reign through!
We will scream from the mountains, our voices tried and true!
Hear my call brothers and sisters and kin alike!
Tonight we ride!
Tonight...
We...
Fight!
YOU ARE READING
Dichotomy
PoetryThe observant is always watching. Humanity is here and thriving, but our world won't be surviving our reign. Alive, but not noticed in living. Here we are. A new life, new words, a new start. Aug. 12th 2019 - June 18th 2021 Vol. 1
