Who are we, if peeping eyes, wayward lips and deceitful tongues
'Cause us to cower into recluse and shy away, silently, scoring our days with sobs?
When those positioned to over-see, instead over-look that role; I guess it's oversight either way.
Where is all the zest and passion that February is supposed to stir up in us,
Having been refreshed with memories of Marcus, Martin and even Kunta?
When have we ever laid down, playing victim, when pressed on either side,
And pricked with the thorns of resistance. When have we ever accepted change,
That we never prayed for, and scarcely care for, for that matter?
How do we now stay peaceful, like stagnant river water hosting flies and parasites,
Unable to overflow our banks and ruffle the feathers of those at play on our fringe;
Unwilling to let us join in the fun.
War! Warrior. Fight! Fighter.
Wrestle! Push Back! Don't Take This Crap Lying Down!!!
Rebel! We are but after all rebels.
-HalfCrazy
© Elias O. Dupuis 2011. All Rights Reserved.
