You must find things that you will not accept,
That will outrage you, that rhymes with the truth,
Nothing is an exclusive preserve of rich and poor-
Our heart pumping out hot water, spilling words,
Absorbing in its own right, it shines in silence,
The level of injustice, the escaping inheritance,
Sticking into cracks and fissures of your soul,
You and I swapping identities for survival.
We are resisters; we fight hard against all odds,
Our failures always echo with loss and shadows,
Our eyes are filled with dry tears, landscapes of dreams,
Our gazes multiplies, becomes as hard as steel,
Things have to be done to change the situation
The freedom we want will burn in the dark frozen night.
superb poem
Koshy- Thanks for your kind words. Much appreciated.
Stunning, stinging words of truth. Great!