“But the law says…”
And so we never question right,
Nor wrong?
Assuming authorities have already mapped
It all out,
Foreseen the future,
And been unbiased parties in the development,
In the execution
Of said rules,
We are just meant to heed
What our overlords say,
Never question whether blind Justice
Has truly yet made her way.
Tag: Concentration camps
Cruel (First Day of School)
We will take your child,
Take your parents and home,
White supremacy,
None are outside its domain,
On this cruel first day of school
We Survived
They say we survived President X,
We’ll survive this,
But many didn’t under President X,
And fewer are making it now,
Concentration Camps are ensuring that less and less will make it,
It’s not an accident children are suffering and dying,
That was the plan to deter,
That was the plan to punish,
Little brown skinned babies,
For existing at this time,
Under these circumstances,
And it’s the job of those surviving,
To stop what is going on,
To make sure all survive,
And that this happens
Never again.
No One Else
The darkness
We are told stories about,
It is here,
Do not avert your eyes,
We brought it here,
Collectively conjured the deepest evils,
It is our job to reign the hellhounds,
That reside here,
It is our job to restore humanity,
To pick up,
To free from cages
the fallen,
the lost,
the battered
and bruised,
It is our job,
There is no one else.
Cages
Kids kept in cages
Not in my name,
State sanctioned child abuses,
Not the first time,
Not the last
Liberty and Justice
Are not dependent on it,
Only tyrannical power
Needs pain and torment
Of the meekest,
Only evil ornate needs caged,
Tortured babies,
But not for my freedom,
Not this time,
Stand not for the inhumanity,
Of neglected,
unprotected,
stolen
kids in cages
Admonished Tears
They could not understand
Why I cried,
Why I panicked as if the pain
Were my own,
They shamed me,
judged,
admonished,
And shunned
The empathy I bestowed,
The desperate need to do,
To right a moral wrong,
That my hands were too small to handle
I could feel my baby being torn
From my breast,
As I learned of countless babies taken from families,
In exchange for attempted border security,
Breathless at the prospect,
I feared how far such a set up would go,
I feared how much could be repeated,
And “improved” upon,
I feared,
I feared a fear so great only matched by that of the taken child,
My tears were matched with cold apathy,
As I realize theirs were being met too,
My tears were a microcosm of the anguish at hand,
A reminder of my human heart,
That bleeds and breaks,
And grows with tears I cry for others,
My burden of lone tears in recognition of atrocities was meant to be,
To find my place fighting for the ignored tears,
That should never have need be shed
She of Letters 