The Struggle Has Always Been Real

Land of the free

Home of the brave

As long as you're white

And not transgender and certainly not a queer lady.

 

Made wonderfully silent

By the patriarchy

Shoved down my own throat

With my bare two hands

Working for and against me.

 

For centuries people like me have laid dormant

Under cover of nightfall

Where the monsters come out

Only as humans wishing to speak

But only being contested as heathens

2/3rds not your problem.

 

So excuse me for not being

Loud enough for your ears

Covered by privilege

I'll never have the opportunity to have

Because oppression still exists in this system

No matter how many parades we have

For the queer or black.

 

Kept quiet beneath the resounding of bullets and bombs

You cannot hear me

Nor my brothers and sisters and those in between

Identities unseen

Behind bandages wrapped up like gifts

To you who will never understand

What it is to not exist

For the comfort of America.

Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741