My Star Tattered Banner.
Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light
the choices we make whether wrong, whether right
WILL alter the course of history.
Even as I stand in this spot stumbling through these word
men with money are wielding weapons sharper than any samurai sword.
Weapons forged by corporate hands and passed down then approved because complacent masses place more importance on who’s going to be the next “American Idol” then silly issues like :
* Hands severed at the wrist so rich women can wear diamonds on their hands
* Iraqi civilians disfigured from shrapnel blasts
* Poor despondent mothers trying desperately to feed their kids
* Working class families who give all they have but still cannot afford decent health care.
and the list could continue, it could go on and on for pages and pages listing catagorically every offence our nation’s committed without leaving out atrocities we COULD have prevented if only “We the People” would
Stand the Fuck up
Wake the Fuck up
Get the Fuck out
and affect change for once instead of twiddling our collective thumbs.
You see,
the seeds of dissent are planted and waiting for gardeners with raised fists to gently pour water into the soil. They are begging to blossom and bloom in revolutions unlike we’ve seen before. Revolutions that rock this planet and tear apart the foundations that have seperated it’s inhabitants for far too long. Revolutions where weapons are melted down and forged into metal beams, Metal beams that are used to erect new schools where children will learn peace instead of violence, tolerance instead of bigotry, grace and mercy instead of vengeance.
these things…these things ARE possible.
I know it.
I know that one person, one voice on a mission can take a mind that is firmly planted and flip it around on it’s axis until the light of TRUTH floods in like a tsunami raging knowledge that cannot be ignored. Raging Knowledge that tranforms lifeless humans into Gods who control the destiny of the world they have dominion over. Raging, merciless, unrelenting knowledge. Knowledge like a key that belongs to a door. On the other side of the door sits the powers that be waiting for one brave voice to slam through and break their political games. To toss over the tables and drive them out. To burn their flags. To take the power from their hands and put it back where it belongs…
In YOUR hands, in OUR hands, hands that build their fortunes and empires. Hands that fought their fucking wars. Hardened, calloused, work worn hands that deserve so much more, more, more, more.
but these hands, my hands, our hands, your hands will not see it until action is taken.
The fruition of change will not be born from the politicians we put in office. Rich oil men offering lies in exchange for power. Left and Right are nothing more than top and bottom of one sinister coin. Heads or tails, the outcome is always the same :
Money, Corruption, Power, Death
Money, Corruption, Power, Death
Money
Corruption
Power
Death.
You see, what so proudly we held at the twilights last gleaming
left blood on our hands and children still screaming.
Oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light
the choices we make whether wrong…but probably right…
WILL alter the course of history.
oldwoodchair said:
I like the passion…your words really speak.
February 22nd, 2008 at 6:43 pm #