Untitled
All those people in there acting like
If they give the right to live to others
It means less life for them
And I know that mood--a woman,
Of woman born, a man's foot pushing
Down on me as if I can be returned to dust
By his boot and somehow he's the richer
But we are not earth
Transmuted by our choosing
By our rising
By our reaching
We are water, and we will slam down
Like rain without the air kept from
Lungs made to breathe
We are winds of change whipping up
A tempest to unmake this scourge
We are fire
And if we have to burn to purge
Then that is what they've earned
Both heads on the beast that tries to feed
And we are too many to be quelled
We will not be eaten
We will not be bound