The angry men inside us whisper the true meaning,
hardly daring to utter that which you wish not to hear.
They speak of wicked doings executed by
the rich man that swears they will, but never do.
We dress under covers of color
with our souls drawn out, hidden.
We emit words of feeble passion
echoed screams of things we swear will change
but in the end, they never do, do they?
Angry men, hidden in our hearts
not yet awakened
praying for the day we will be equal
the day where things will change
not yet ready to push us out of our beds
not yet ready to shove us into action.
Will we ever be ready?
Will we ever demand the change we desperately need?
Will we ever be able to ignore our selfish minds
and come to an agreement to help those that ache for it?
Rise, I call ye!
Rise to face the sun,
to scream at the rich man
for him to give to the poor man
for the poor man to take unselfishly.
Rise, I call ye!
Ignore your wretched misgivings!
See us not as a belief,
a race,
a religion,
but a person.
Not rich or poor in wealth,
but rich in love,
rich in acceptance.
Rise, I call ye!
Make the change we are destined to make
emerge into a new genesis, a new dawn
A new beginning of which we are all babes,
reborn.
Rise.
Points: 441
Reviews: 11
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