Love Trumps Hate
On January 20th a man will sit in a chair meant for prestige; he speaks without thought and lives in a world only one percent of our population understands, his skin sags in orange blisters caused by spoken hatred disguised as democracy,
I see the best minds of my generation pledging their allegiance against the flag, promising tomorrow will be a better day to those who are ignored by his policies,
They sit at home watching television with parents who condemn their love, parents who elected a man who supports shocks like lighting to pray the gay away,
They are in the streets shouting like mad, anger lives in their fists but the only violence they partake in is the thudding of boots against pavement,
They cry for our country and its people, their tears live in jars cherished by a generation who blames others for their mistakes,
They are posting a status offering the only words of kindness some will hear all week, they have nothing else to give but their love,
They are being attacked in a dark alleyway, slurs spit from a mouth that promises America has always been great, a pure scarf now dirty meant to represent a sacred bond is reduced to conservative propaganda,
They are calling their gynecologists now looking for an answer that will outlast the tyranny of a man trying to control their body,
They are shivering, shaking, sobbing despite their strength but they know tomorrow is the day for action,
They were running for president, too, and they were going to make history, but the hypocrisy of their naysayers set up a system that would never allow them to win.