How loudly must we cry in order to be heard?
How bad does it have to get before we are understood?
If I have a flashback and cry in class
All you do after everyone laughs
Is tell me:
I wish you would take me to the side
Give me some tissue for my eyes,
Maybe a hug would be good
If you sincerely felt like you should.
But instead, you just tell me:
What am I supposed to do?
Who am I supposed to go to?
I am the voice of those unheard
Those who have had their dreams deferred.
Parents who are stressed
Teachers who are overwhelmed
Children with arms outstretched
Longing to be rescued.
We can’t forget how we
got here so how can we:
From sitting in the desk
To now standing behind it
A single parent of two little ones
No words can describe this
Feeling of fear and despair
Yet hopeful determination.
We are resilient.
We are creative.
But we need our next generation!
Only in love and unity will we:
We don’t have a choice
I wish more would raise their voice
Rather than suffer in silence
Trying to keep their faces fixed
I wish less would talk and more would listen
It would completely change their disposition.
If they could hear our ancestors guide us
They wouldn’t just lead, but they would help us survive this.
Then we could:
One thing I’ve learned in life
Is we can’t depend on someone else’s dime
We must rise to our feet
Brush the dust off our sleeves.
Sit still in meditation,
And follow our intuition
We must fill ourselves with love
Overflowing with power from above
Grab the hands of our neighbors
Lift them up in praises
And together let us all say: