One voice shouts against the grain
Words of anger, fear, and pain,
Arms spread wide to grasp the sun,
But too far a leap for only one

Shouts of hatred answer his cries,
Scornful looks wonder why he even tries,
Pushes and shoves throw him to the mud
And slow only to see the spill of fresh crimson blood

Slowly his body withers and gives
Just as one decides to stand before him to let him live,
Easy as one two quickly falls,
Lives taken in vain to save it all

With cold death the crowd disperses,
No sound now bu the echoing of growing verses,
The battle is over bu the war is not won,
The blood on their hands shows them what hatred has done

The guilt waters seeds of growing resistance,
Small sprouts shoot from the Earth with heroic persistence,
As these flowers grow and their love blooms,
The darkness of hatred can no longer gloom