She is six, and searching for answers to questions that she cannot yet ask.
Baby, I tell her,
There are things that are broken,
And people with hearts like hammers that are trying to fix them,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Build.
Sweet-souled strangers, tending this planets bruises,
Sharing in its peoples pain.
There are children without water,
Women half dead from bearing them,
People in fear for their lives for speaking of forbidden futures, believing in the wrong god, or no god,
Or worshipping the right god wrong.
Starvation, disease, segregation, genocide, despair,
Beings in agony; others angry, warped, with sad, distorted minds,
The symptoms of a sick and stunted world.
Baby, I tell her,
You will find words to frame the questions that right now I can see behind your eyes.
You are the daughter of a dreamer,
You are trying to find your stories,
Your heart will be a hammer,
Driving your words into this weary, war-fatigued world,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Build.
It cannot be borne, it will not be borne.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
She is six, and searching for answers to questions that she cannot yet ask.
Baby, I tell her,
There are things that are broken,
And people with hearts like hammers that are trying to fix them,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Build.
Sweet-souled strangers, tending this planets bruises,
Sharing in its peoples pain.
There are children without water,
Women half dead from bearing them,
People in fear for their lives for speaking of forbidden futures, believing in the wrong god, or no god,
Or worshipping the right god wrong.
Starvation, disease, segregation, genocide, despair,
Beings in agony; others angry, warped, with sad, distorted minds,
The symptoms of a sick and stunted world.
Baby, I tell her,
You will find words to frame the questions that right now I can see behind your eyes.
You are the daughter of a dreamer,
You are trying to find your stories,
Your heart will be a hammer,
Driving your words into this weary, war-fatigued world,
Bang! Bang! Bang! Build.
It cannot be borne, it will not be borne.
