rest, unrest

rest, unrest,

rest, unrest.

 

simple words, speak volumes.

 

today, a boy is killed,

 

tomorrow, another lost girl,

 

the next day, a gender non-comforming student is sent home

simply for trying to use a bathroom they would not get mocked for.

 

And the cycle repeats,

and repeats,

and repeats.

 

When you hear the anthem, of this supposed 'great country'

 

"o'er the land of the free," it says

 

as transgender women of color

are getting murdered and raped

at a rate nearly five times the

national average.

 

as children like me

get legally abused

in the name of therapy.

 

as mothers and fathers

get locked away for

simply trying to provide

 

the land of the free?

 

bull. shit.

 

america is the home of the brave,

that much,

is obvious.

 

but "the land of the free" must be read as

"land of the free only if you are cisgender,

heterosexual, caucasian, christian, and

part of the one percent."

 

rest.

unrest.

This poem is about: 
My country

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