Campfire
Jon Ross - Flickr

Your eyes moving…

 

Weary mad days as life as we know it changes.

Old eyes see and don’t say a thing.

 

Same old song as

our days move along.

When the victim is the reason for his fate/

That line is not

racism or hate.

 

The stories we tell:

Is there really a Hell

for those who don’t cry

but only give reason

to old lies?

 

Mothers and fathers never wanted their young

to know their color,

that black spot

on themselves.

 

Everything is change, you see.

My people believe in

standing up,

dancing,

and singing

between the protests.

 

Those other sad eyes,

the fire inside

burning once again

to see

what is in motion.

 

You must move

with

the

change.