We the People

We haven’t much to call our own.

Not our eyes or our hair,

or our X chromosome.

Not our face or our fare,

or the places we roam.

Not the clothes that we wear,

not the house we call home.


All we have is our voice

and the sounds that we make.

Every word is a choice

and a right they can’t take.

We have so much to say,

but refuse to contribute.

We would rather go play

than address our issues.


He wants to split families,

deport neighbors and friends.

Build a wall so our neighbors

have no way to get in.

Neglecting our dreamers,

we say “that’s too bad”.

Too bad they have a life here?

Or we can’t care a tad?


She claims that he touched her,

even after her “no”.

We label her a slut,

and a whore, and a ho.

Indifferent to truth,

we distrust one another.

We let those who speak up

become flames to be smothered.


His name was Michael Brown,

both a son and a brother

He was 18 years old.

The only difference?


His color.


Desensitized to pain,

we forget that it’s strange.

These kids killed on the streets

are no common exchange.

In the land of the free

Why stay a bystander?

By standing we allow

our hate to kill candor.

Refuse the ignorance

that our green nation breeds.

Resist the injustice

and plant the new seeds.


It begins with a voice,

not just yours or just mine,

but all of our words

to spread our message combined.

Be loud and be bold, don’t be scared to critique.

Use your voice and your right

to speak.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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