Not a Weapon

Dear World,

I made a choice, I chose a chance

A chance for freedom

freedom for all

For immigrants, for natives

For love, no hatred.

Hatred is a weapon

A weapon I will not use.

I use words, my words,

and they are my blessing and my curse.

This blessing is my control,

to control my mind.

A mind, moving at the speed of light,

the speed of right,

my lips are not tight.

A tightening noose

I live in this noose, because of darkness.

Because I chose to choose.

I prayed for my voice, I prayed for peace,

a piece, a part.

A part of a whole,

a whole world, full of grace.

Hold on to grace,

hold fast to beliefs.

My religious beliefs,

my religion is not a weapon,

your religion is not a weapon.

Words are a weapon

But these verses are no weapon

These verses leave no curses

because my verses are a tool.

Tools are not used to break and destroy.

Do not break what is whole

But rebuild what is broken.

The Earth is broken,

broken people, crying people,

Crying for their God, their gods.

God! Allah! Father!

The God of a Native

is the Spirit of the Native

Whether the Native belief

is a primitive belief

or an innovative belief.

In an innovative world,

a world where worship has no meaning

Worship God, worship love,

worship grace, worship peace.

When worship is propaganda,

propaganda is religion.

Religion is not a weapon

My God is not a weapon

It is not a game of chance

on the off-chance

that you get off with a warning

That neon warning

That neon god

That sign, that flash, that warning

From that song that they sang

trying to warn you,

that they sang in the streets.

The streets, filled with people

an angry people, a hateful people

a blank-faced people

Dark faces, light faces

all facing each other, facing a Nation

a free Nation

A supposedly Free Nation.

But the Free Press isn't free

Free Speech isn't free

Free Religion isn't free

Freedom. Isn't. Free.

It isn't a gift just given away.

Given opportunities

This land of opportunity,

This land cries out, the children cry out.

Out in the open, open your hearts.

If your hearts still beat

let them beat with the sound of drums

And that little drummer boy

drumming off to war

A war of shame, a shameful conspiracy

A shameful panel, a panel of judges

Those judges and leaders

They are the leaders of nothing

When the leaders can't lead.

Fight the leadership with your friendship

Friends, join hands,

and lend a hand to help, 

and help those in need.

We need to stand,

stand against hate, stand with a choice. 

I made a choice.

My choice was my voice

and my voice is my verse. 

My blessing is no curse.

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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