I beat the ground here with fists and with tears
Never to make a wrong a right and never to lose sight
Got to remember the stories and continue the fight
I beat the ground
At the base of the locust tree
So that the ghost of the strange fruit can be free
I beat the ground with marching feet
Every step closer to equality
The black and white photos of the call for dignity
I beat the ground
With peace as the gravel cuts the hand the knuckles bleed
Who died here children, women or men as we hear the stories again
I beat the ground with my mind
Looking past political lies freedom is my right
Ignorance is no excuse when you break the rules
I beat the ground
With optimism hearing the echoing sounds of Martin and Malcolm
A definite dream striving for its reality
I beat the ground with my voice
I demand the right to a choice
©Copyright Thomas Dooley 2020
- Author: Thomas J. Dooley ( Offline)
- Published: January 22nd, 2020 11:23
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Fractured Dreams
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