“Not everyone makes it” a poem by Eric King

 

Not everyone makes it
Not everyone sees a date on the calender
as the second coming, as the first day of their life
Some never get that ressurection
We all do our part, and some of us get tied up
Maybe protested, bured something, broke something, freed something
We acted according to our conscious and got hit
and that fucking sucks, bad.
We have a privilege though, a privilege of having that date
The state fucked us and hurt us and we will never get that time back
and FUCK it hurts! We have stains that will never come clean
and ink on us that will never dry..Bday parties and anniversaries and deaths
Time doesn’t go in reverse and those moments can’t be re-lived
But…we have a future outside..
Some of the people who followed their hearts won’t make it out
20, 30, 40, 50 years captive..Being treated as subhuman
being disregarded as not worthy of love or life or respect
or god damn common decency
They age and become old, yet they are still beaten and robbed
of the dignity their will and spirit and existense deserves
The calender mocks them
and that gate will never show the compassion we deserpately how it will
It just won’t..
Some never make it out and we need to remember them
everytime we hit the streets, every protest we attend
When Herman gets beat we all need to feel those blows
and act accordingly
Everytime the pigs get away with murder we need to remember
that good, loving, brilliant, strong, compassionate people
walked their talk and put their lives on the line to end the barbarity
of the state, to raise their people up
and they carry that struggle everyday and we MUST help
lighten that load always..fight everyday to open that gate
Not with our will but with our action, with our bodies and minds
Until All are Free.

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