Frustration is in our blood,
courses in our veins.
Generational hazard,
spread for centuries; the value of one
for another hasn't been an actual truth.
Land, wealth, etc.
all viable reasons for one race to be
subservient to another?
I understand the thought behind the "need",
but how as a human, created through
the same means, can I not feel deep within,
both my chest and mind the wrongness?
Both divided by a racial line,
when faced with the truth of my familial
ties. Both sides intertwined within, showed
directly through my skin. Acknowledged
through my own eyes daily.
Stereotypes on both sides.
I acknowledge the struggles of minorities,
two in the same body, can't help but think
that our cries for equality all drown each-other
out. Our calls to be represented, to be shown
the smallest bit of recognition and respect all come together
to make a cacophony.
What are we?
A nation divided; how alike we are. Hated
and loved, misrepresented, because of
our past and those that represent it.
Inherently beautiful, not truly hated, not
truly known. I can't say that our faults
aren't our own.
Who are we?
An amalgamation; one-track minded. My generation;
we're soaking in information, soaking in hatred. Overloaded processors.
Becoming divided; division clear, but
not mentioned. Tired, but how could that
be? Tired not of the body, but the mind;
our minds occupied with the future, not
only our own but of the country we live in,
run by old men with illusions of grandeur who don't get it.
A cacophony, a scream at the void, divided
by the biases stamped into our psyche. But I
can't help but wonder at the future that could
have been if no such things had been
implemented.
What could we be if we looked outside of
ourselves? Looked into morals and decided
it is our fault we're divided. False morals,
real prophets. Holy scripture misinterpreted,
is that the real cause of this rift between
us? Simple things stigmas still created, still
flourishing. Another thing caused by old
men and their power.
We're divided by religion, though our main
cause is peace, war's are for our alters.
Aren't we spiritual? Who are we?
We're a generation without the biases of
our elders. We're trying. Trying; a word looked
down upon, thought of as lazy, useless.
We're striving, we will succeed or
die trying. We're intense, maybe that's
our downfall. We're opinionated, something
that our elder's hate that we inherited. Most
of all we're consumed by a regret for
things not of our own doing, but for the
actions of those that came before us.
We're divided, like myself, split in so
many directions, consumed with so many
concerns that happiness seems like a foreign
concept.
We've become a nation represented
by our divisions, like myself, but that's
also where we differ.
A division represented, but so is the
merge. A clear representation that change
is possible. We can become something
capable of greatness.
What are we?
We are capable, we are worthy, we
are learning, we are deserving of change.
But change will only come if we become
a nation that isn't represented by division.
George had it right to not want division
within the seats of power, the division of
ideals; pride in essence.
There is no more room for pride, there can't
be. Our problems stem from it.
Like the old adage: together we stand, divided
we fall.