Tonight, those who have power,
Sit on their thrones.
They congregate and discuss and debate.
They make laws that do not tell us what to do,
Rather only that which should not be done.

They forbid our love.
They mock our life.
They scorn at our attempt to live.
They discourage our very existence.

Be that as it may.
We sing, we dance, we protest and above all we continue to say.
They words that some unheard god once said.
“Ye’ were from my hand all fed”

Tonight, is a powerful night,
Not because the powerful own it,
Or buy and sell it.
But because we, the faceless and the nameless

Hope with a chance of hopefulness,
Love with a chance of it being lovely.
Speak with the chance of being head.
But mostly live, with the aspiration that one day having a life