Powerful words or bruising fists

Assault the soul

They leave deep wounds

That never healed

Even though it’s been forty years,

We still do not have equals rights.

Our honor questioned,

Or worse ignored

Who held the farmer up as he sow

And plow his fields?

Who fed the children before herself?

Who took her tasks of cleanliness and

Nurturing to heart before her own desires?

Who moved into the present

Still bound by men’s prejudice?

Our wounds fester

They unite us in our time

To be heard

They fill our lungs with air

So our own powerful words

Can be heard once again

So our souls can seek closure

So our rally builds momentum

We unite in a colorful band –

Black, white, brown, yellow

Men!

Consider yourself forewarned

We are the army you never expected

And cannot silence.