I can not keep on going,
Knowing that my people are at risk.
And when I say my people,
I mean all people.

These people are not mine, nor yours, or theirs.
These people are people, and only people.
Quivering at the sight of you.
They stand together, my people.

And when I say my people,
I mean everyone.
America, Africa, Australia.
These people live only for people.

And these people are lost in a world so cruel,
That they are only alive for those who love them.
These people want nothing but to die.
But they hang on for those who love them.

These people are the people late at night,
You hear them, don’t pretend you don’t.
These moans, those yells, these screams
They are theirs and only theirs.

These people are no less than you,
And no greater than you could be.
These people are only people,
Struggling to survive, these people are.

And when I look at you,
I only see one thing.
You.
You are apart of my people.