Stolen

Mon, 02/05/2018 - 23:18 -- Crypti

A marble.

A pin.

A penny.

A piece of gum.

 

Small things

That mean

Nothing

To no one.

 

Insignificant in their matter,

In their being.

They won't be missed if they're

Stolen.

 

A toy ring.

A dollar bill.

A cigarette.

A pair of dice.

 

Small things

That mean

Nothing

To most people.

 

All can be easily replaced,

But there must be some

Significance behind them,

Something small, yet

Replicable.

 

A house key.

A 20.

A pack of cancer sticks.

A bottle of liquor.

 

Now,

We get closer to finding

The things people put

Value in.

 

Our Privacy,

Our money,

Our safety,

Our sobriety.

 

A car.

A dog.

Credit.

A promotion.

 

Things that people put

Time into.

These become necessities,

And,

Therefore,

More valuable.

 

Our livelihood,

A friend,

Our pride,

Our chance to finally move up in the

World.

 

A wallet.

A safe.

A lover.

Our safety.

 

Things we care about,

But don't necessarily need.

Things we fight for,

And things we want to keep.

 

So why is it then

That when a

Life

Becomes that thing,

We ignore it?

 

Why is it that, if our

Lover,

Is a thing we desire to keep,

We let others die with no

Outrage?

 

Why is it that unless we are

Related,

Unless we are responsible,

Unless we are

Affected,

We don't care?

 

We raise no cry for Libya,

A country of slave-trade.

We raise no cry for the homeless,

A people with no names.

We raise no cry for the villages,

People with no say.

We raise no cry for the minorites,

Those that help us stay on our feet.

 

We raise no cry for the salve labourers,

Who are only paid 3 dollars a day.

We raise no cry for the starving children,

Who fear, yet welcome, their ends.

We raise no cry for the criminals

Of whom no real crime was committed.

We raise no cry for the damned,

Who don't know what they did to deserve their ends.

 

Instead, we raise our voices to our

Stars,

Those fake reality celebrities inside

Boxes of manufactured dramatics.

 

We raise our voices to the rich,

Those thousands that give

Nothing back.

 

We raise our voices to the known,

Those few that we think

Care for us.

 

But we raise our voices,

Not in outrage,

But in Praise,

In words that they don't

Need

To hear,

In words that they don't

Listen to,

In words that they take

And spit back in our faces,

Yet we forgive them because

"they are human, too."

 

So why don;t we raise our voices

For those that are human

Yet are treated as if they're

Animals?

 

Why don't we defend those

Brethern

As we do our

Fake friends?

 

Why don't we raise our voice

In solidarity with those that have

Suffered?

 

Because humans also know better

Than to raise their voices

In outrage

Against their

Gods.

 

When a life is stolen,

We say nothing.

When a childhood is robbed of peace and safety,

We say nothing.

When freedoms are taken from grasping hands that barely knew them,

We say nothing.

When the weak are taken advantage of,

We say nothing.

 

We do nothing.

 

We hear nothing.

 

We

 

Are

 

Nothing.

 

We care;

In some small way,

We care.

 

But we are too scared that

We

Will end up the same way.

 

We care for the trans women

Murdered for doing

Nothing but

Be themselves.

 

We care for the adults and youth

That have been demonised

By those that fear.

 

We care for the refugees

That have been discriminated against

For their dress and their home.

 

We care for the religious

Who are burned, raped, and sullied

Because of who they pray to.

 

We care for the people

That are beaten and spit on

For being their abusers' equals.

 

We care for the disabled

Who are ridiculed

For something that no one should ever experience.

 

We care for the poor

That are refused a home and food

Because of their defeated ways.

 

We care,

But we are too

Afraid.

But those beings that we raise out voices to

Are not our

Gods.

They are

Humans.

 

When an item is stolen,

Say something.

When a livelihood is trashed,

Do something.

When a person is abused,

Help someone.

When a person is loved,

Say it.

 

And

When a life is stolen,

Don't let it be

Forgotten.

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

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