There's something peculiar
about witnessing courage
in the face of hatred
True righteousness hits me deep
It flourishes from within
the way epiphanies bloom in scholars
or the way love overwhelms
young students

There's majesty in the underdog
who stands until his knees buckle
who shouts until her voice breaks
fueled only by fortitude
mocked for feeling empathy
hated for living truth

In moments of moral principle
I see peace amidst the chaos
poetry amidst the prose
in the eyes of the young
and in the old
who fight
for justice

i saw you in my sleep
and i kissed you like i couldn't breathe
but you were never mine to keep
our love just wasn't meant to be

When I was six years old,
my brother slept on the couch.
And sometimes,
I would sleep beside him.

I would creep into the gray night,
and whisper scratchily toward him:
"Clyyyde!"
"Hmm?"
"...Wanna play Download?"

I had picked up the word from some adult,
and had absolutely no idea
what it meant.

But this is how it worked:
I would lay on the floor beside him,
and as soon as I said
in my deepest six-year-old voice,
"DOWNLOAAD!"
we would pretend to dream.

When we 'woke up',
we would have to tell each other about it in detail.
That way, we could have tons of dreams
in one night.

Mine were always lands made out of food.
Because I was fat.

I don't remember his.
Probably 'cause they were stupid.

I'm so glad I still have the chance to play
at least one last time.

More animal than human
I guess they're happy now
They look ridiculous
At least they're enjoying themselves