Young and moldable,
undecided and unsure—
I have only just arrived in life.
You see,
I don’t have to love
my country
or the one wide world.
But this is a new time,
and it seems to me that
the people are starting to realize
that boundaries and borders are fiction,
and it seems to me that
the people are starting to realize
“injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere.”
(the truth, of course,
is that there truly is
injustice everywhere)
When I realized this,
I did not love my country.
I found it a dark, silent place
in a black, boarded-up world
until I heard
it speak
up and break free—
The world took up the challenge
and screamed as it entered
the realm of the unknown
and wrought with anger, cries
echoed and echoed
over the previously soundless plain,
breaking the choking grip
of apathy
And my country took to the streets,
and stayed outside in the cold
because it liked
what it had heard
And my people,
everywhere
encountered such violence!
so they screamed louder—
they kept projecting into the night
and took the streets again the next day;
because they were not content to be silenced
by wind, rain, or oppression.
They held their spirits tight;
they did not rattle or break,
they dazzled the heavens
with raging sound.
I must say
I have never had more faith in my country,
or in the one wide world.
And so I let
making this noise
be the first thing
I am sure of.
