Stop, and Listen.
How can we be
The land of the free
And the home of the brave,
When we are nothing more than a knave, an enclave,
Digging our own grave?
You can hear their cries,
The millions of sobs very loud and clear,
Those of a mother, mourning the death of her own son,
Shot by his white brethren,
The conscientious teacher
Disrupted by a rapture of thoughts,
As "The Man" ruins everything previously worked for.
The terrified woman, crying in pain
For there is no hope of regaining her stolen innocence,
Only to be labeled as an illegal demon
If she comes to the decision of making the choice.
The hardworking saleswoman, unable to feed her family
Because she is treated unfairly,
Being paid less for her womanhood,
The once confident high school student
Coming to the realization that even the highest of grades
And greatest of extracurriculars cannot pay for college.
It continues to rise.
The delicate and fragile family,
Their medical expenses high,
Now seeing that the only chance of saving their son
Is gone on the fly.
The heartbroken parents, as they look upon her undisturbed body,
Wondering what else they could have possibly done
To prevent the suicide of their own daughter.
The acceptance of others,
Deemed futilistic and nonexistent
With the simple pull of a trigger:
An immoral gun.
No humanity.
The people:
Their dreams lost,
Trust tested,
Hope diminished.
They cry out. They speak.
Each cry is different, yet the same.
They are all so undeniably loud that it is impossible to hear them.
The cries pierce our ears to the point where we are in so much pain,
Suffering,
Trials and Tribulations that push us so to the extreme
That we only hear ourselves—
We only see ourselves—we only care about ourselves.
We are selfish, and that is why we cry, for no one is willing to
Stand Out,
Be Different,
Make the Change.
They ask: How?
How do we have to the power stand up tall and proud,
To finally say our thoughts,
Our opinions,
Aloud?
Selflessness is the key
Especially when the "Golden King"
Stands above thee
With his crowd of corrupted courtiers
That dare not play devil's advocate.
View both sides,
Both perspectives,
Both possibilities.
<p>Paragraph seventeen.</p>The change need not begin in the mind
But the moral soul,
For only then,
Could we make our country whole.
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