If I do not fight,
Retreat from the light,
True, no blood shed,
True, I am alive,
But would you rather we die,
As slaves and mocked?
Rather than be the ones standing tall,
Someone will have to sacrifice,
Whether me or someone else's might,
It still will be someone's child,
Whether it be me,
Or the million others,
Whose parents would not want,
We are all still,
Someone's daughter or son,
Someone's beloved and someone's only one,
But we are all that someone,
Who will fight if not us?
Who will rise if not us?
If we do not,
Would you see your grandchildren,
Beneath the upper class,
Fit only to breathe in their dust,
The undercurrent in their voices,
Despite our youth,
And we pray,
But prayers without action,
Are as futile,
As crying for the sorry state we have become,
Did God not say we were his hands and feet?
Who else but us?
How can we make a difference,
If all we do is sit here so meek?