How is it
that when silence
seems treason
words resist?
When resistance
seems patriotic
words run away
to a hidden place
even poets
cannot find,
to my disgrace.
I do not fear
my words will
cause me harm.
I fear I shall harm
my words.
I fear I will harm
my very soul.
I fear words so full
of anger, even hate
shall ruthlessly escape.
So, I shut the gate.
Today, I try to climb
above the world enflamed
by bullies with no shame
and view the world
I once knew.
A world sublime
but not perfect,
trying to be better,
trying to do better,
trying to achieve better
for every single soul.
This is the world of old.
Knowing the past
is good as gold.
Lingering in the past
will not help us be bold.
And being bold I am told
is what brings change,
topples bullies and their ilk,
eases harm and soothes
like a glass of warm milk,
after a harrowing hundred days.
I beg words to come out of hiding.
I beg for law and order abiding.
I beg for the wealthy to fund the fight.
I beg for police and soldiers to do what is right.
I beg for teachers to speak truth and empower.
I beg for journalists and media not to cower.
I beg for leaders to seize the moment.
I beg for clergy to calm the torment.
I beg for the silent to speak aloud.
I beg for neighbors to support each other.
I beg for words to shout together.
I beg for words.
annarino writes 