Resisting Injustice
Resisting the injustice of your attempts to strip me, of my
identity.
The tattoo on my arm speaks only to your inadequacy.
That number serves as a reminder that I will not become a
statistic.
That I will not cripple to your sadistic,
plans to make me believe I have no worth.
That there was no meaning to my birth.
That I don’t belong on the earth.
Resisting the injustice of the emotional trauma you imposed on
me.
Finding small joys to distract, from reality.
To distract from the fact that with every shovel I still hear their
desperate cries.
As they realize that it wasn’t a shower, they had starved of the
truth and fed lies.
To cover up the soul wrenching agony, with a temporary
plaster.
My pace slows... you beat me, demanding, that the degenerate
dust be shovelled faster.
While your gain and benefit off my misery.
I hold on to hope, praying that there will be an end to your
treachery.
Resisting the injustice of the pain of survival.
Only a percentage of the guilty prosecuted and held liable.
I’m free?...
Yet I’m still shackled to the horrors that I’ve seen.
Though my bones were broken, my spirit is finally awoken.
Resisting the injustice of your policies, that rip sisters from their
brothers.
Loved ones, from each other.
Babies from their mothers.
Taking them into my home.
Raising them as my own.
But Fear still lurks…
Creaking the floorboards with each step.
Resisting the injustice of your lies.
Your attempts to conceal my eyes.
Your pointless propaganda perspiring poison.
You ship people off like cattle.
I will fight tirelessly and endlessly in this battle.
You will not silence my protests.
You will not stop my conquest.
Death, only makes me a martyr.
Aiding my legacy, spreading my message faster.
The numbness fades, and darkness invades;
Your soul is corroded by your actions.
Mine is liberated from guilt.
Guilt which lies next to your heart, interwoven there from the
start.