shackle bound

The GREATEST DEMONSTRATION FOR FREEDOM

5 score years 

ago.

demand[ing] 

the riches of freedom 

and the security 

of justice, the fierce urgency of Now

a symbolic shadow, 

a joyous daybreak 

to end the long night of their captivity

crippled by manacles and c h a i n s

Languished in the Corners of Society

[the] ARCHITECTS of REPUBLIC defaulted on this promissory note, 

and the BANK of JUSTICE is bankrupt, take[ing] the tranquilizing drug of gradualism

[walking through] dark and desolate valley[s]

[a] sweltering summer of legitimate discontent 

[instead of] an invigorating autumn of freedom.

Whirl w i n d s of revolt

sHaKe the foundations of [the] nation until the bright day of justice emerges.

[those] who stand on the warm threshold of which leads into the PALACE of justice:

drink from the cup of bitterness and hatred

[instead of] h i g h plane[s] of dignity and discipline [at] majestic heights of meeting PHYSICAL force with soul force

their destiny is tied up with our destiny

their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom.

We cannot walk alone, [but must] 

work together, pray together, struggle together, to to jail together

to stand up for freedom together [on the]

prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire,

heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania,

snow-capped Rockies of Colorado,

but not only that, [but the]

Stone Mountain of Georgia,

Lookout Mountain of Tennessee,

and every hill and molehill of Mississippi

wounded

Watch as he cocks the gun

Aiming at injustice prevalent in the world

No longer having other method to voice out

Murder is the only cry that can be heard

Listen to the uproar and screams of the American citizen, 

split between outrage and pride

Unity is silent

Fundamental rights are constantly challenge

The rich cry out

Bloodthirsty souls

The public insists

Poor unfortunates whose loved ones all die

At the hand of the system–

The system that claims to protect

So familiar

Watch as he cocks the gun

Claiming to be the voice of America

In reality, he is one of them

But a savior cannot originate from those

Who strife and struggle on a daily basis

Watch as he cocks the gun

His army a people

Warring against the puppeteers of their nation

They are weaker than those who hold the strings

But they are plentiful

He was a father

The leading party argues

And she a mother

Another decides

But who decides which lives are noteworthy

Who decides which person deserves to die

The war loudens

He was a husband

The leading party argues

The woman a wife

Another decides

Weights of value are placed on either side

The burden destroys both parties

Watch as he cocks the gun

Morphing the victor into yet another victim

To the skewed concept of justice

Justice dependent on the hands that serve its plate

The public wonders if justice is equal to retaliation

They answer that who defined this system decide

As with everything, the issue remains ambiguous

Watch as he cocks the gun

Be mindful for yourself

Anothers biases may rot inside the true tale

The citizens as a whole shape the narrative

And they continue to scream

infantilized

This poem may be “controversial,”

Sensitive, or delicate.

But the roar of a tiger can never be silenced.

The echo of my voice will keep on defying.

Defining the issues.

Addressing the problem.

The bombs.

The lives.

The deaths.

If an infant child was crying, 

Would you stand there and watch?

We are butterflies, nestled,

Blissfully unaware in little cocoons.

While all around us,

Starvation is faster,

And throat-handles the children,

While thirst for water cuts off circulation.

But even secluded and hidden,

The butterfly must never be too comfortable.

And so as we,

Must not forget all the others.

Slaughtered and suffering,

Begging for aid 

That we cannot offer?

If an infant child was crying,

Would you stand there and watch?

A parent strives for justice,

Reparation for their losses.

Battles mental and physical,

While the other remains cynical.

And as if never elapsing,

The fighting sees no ending.

We cannot stand in wait for peace.

Our silence is deafening.

We are still

As lightning strikes and clashes against.

A body in angst.

And suffering,

Suffering is free.

Suffering neverending.

If an infant child was crying,

Would you stand there and watch?

The children lack an option.

They have no choice in desperation.

Remaining in

Separation

From loved ones who flee.

Starving, in need

Of something to drink.

No will, no goals.

No conviction.

Unable to continue the battle.

Against death, luring them in.

As happiness,

As calmness and serenity,

Becomes more sparse.

By the hour.

By the minute.

By the second.

How important can justice be?

How many will be murdered?

How many will be slaughtered?

Until all parties remain at peace?

And what can we as individuals complete?

What actions can we take?

Instead of waiting for war to break.

If an infant child was crying,

Would you stand there and watch?