We Are

The movement has a name
And a place to call its home,
In a manner much the same
as granting
an inanimate object
with a name.
As we move among the wreckage of the past,
We must be responsible
For the words that implicate what
Has moved us first,
to reach that place.
The enormity of the weight We carry
Looks for padding for the bearing.
We undertake this call to duty
For we mark a place in history.
As the days of burning,
what supports
The feeding breasts.
That give the nourishment
To those who take the gift of life and bread,
Are past and taken from the shelf.
The dust has been disturbed and swept
Up into the air we all breathe.
All The Same.
For those who won’t acknowledge
Our rights and achievements…
May they choke on it.
We move to give a name to what,
Has been named to move behind the gender
Named to move to places better,
With unjust ease and swiftness
Free from judgment,
that has no witness.
With a jury that resembles the
Ones that are responsible.
We have bias working against us.
The movement has found a home
To call it’s very own.
To call it by a name
That has been earned,
With body and the spirit that
Bends and molds its actions
With and without will.

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Comments
Why do you think human beings feel the need to label everything, Kadia Leo?
Must every square peg fit into a round hole?
It doesn't always work out that way.
Not to sound cliché, but it's been said you can't judge a book by its cover.
I agree...
Nicely penned, poet.
~Dean Kuch