366 Poems: April 21st, 2016

Voice

I used to tell people that there was a difference

between interfering where you didn’t belong

and using your privilege to fix something that you knew

was wrong,

and they’d all say that I was profound.

But no,

I was nothing but a hypocrite

who sat all day writing words she wouldn’t speak

and starting revolutions she’d never fight.

And you know, that was okay

for a time

until I realized the brittleness of pencil lead,

the fragility of paper,

the weakness that is held by a politician

who refuses to have a voice.

.

I have spent sixteen years

trying to prove that I have a voice,

yet have spent every one refusing to have a say.

 So why not today?

Why not the moment when the woman screams at her class

about how she is trying to save their lives,

if they could only stop for long enough

to take a chance and listen?

.

Why not start fighting with her?

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