We The Imperfect

We the Imperfect

--If my skin be:
Melted copper, dancing in the early light,
Evanescent alabaster, shining through the blackest night,
Warm teak, throwing off the ocean’s gaze,

Shall I be seen through one man’s prejudice?
When one man can define the rest,
Does any other have their fair say?

--If I cannot:
For eyes have yet to see, and the world be bleak to me,
For my legs cannot carry me, and I’ve never left these walls,
For my ears are deaf to sound, and church bells do not ring for me,

Shall I be called cripple, my rights stole away?
Is a man not a man, a woman a woman?
Why won’t you hear what I have to say?

We the poor are abandoned, left to suffer and die,
We the old are cast away, though our years have made us wise,
We the brave are scorned, mocked and kicked in the face,
We the women are abused, we bear young and are traded away,

You look down on us; we the imperfect,
We, who in your eyes have nor strength nor right,
We stand united; we the imperfect,

We the imperfect are weary and worn, our hearts battle-stained, dreams dashed and torn.
We are soldiers, outmatched, but never alone,
For our hearts have long wandered, but now they have homes,

Holding hands through our dreams, the future can’t be what it seems,
And we shan’t fall victim to the American dream.

You deem us unworthy, but we have the right to speak,
And those who will not hear, will one day be made to see.

We are the future. We the imperfect.

briana marie
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