March of Washington
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After the storm comes the rainbow,
Vivacious colors splitting the grey.
After the clouds shines the sun,
Shining light through the tears of the sky.
Storms are alive, in you, in me, in the world.
My splattered blood dries
over the newly cemented pavement
where my head collided,
after my back got soaked and bruised
from the fire hydrant
cause I'm fighting the tyrant
of segregation. You can crush
