Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Keep chanting your submerged voices.
Lonely in the back of the room.
Too loud now
To hear the folklore.
Let them paint you poisen.
Label you the enemy.
Let them get high off the scent of rebellion.
They think we had our day.
That it's time for an uproot, a change.
When we're done letting them speak.
Let's hold a wedding in their honnor.
May no man leave unbled.

— The End —