Beautiful Disaster

An Untouchable's Dream

I long for a day
That my words may have meaning
The day that the beauty queen
Won't always be right
Just because she's a size negative seven
I long for the day
When justice finally exists
And the black-clothes-wearing, black-died-hair kids
Won't be judged
And assumed to be demonic
And full of hate
And stupid
Most people only act a certain way
Because that's how society
expects them to act
And when will people realize
That just because they wear polos and have nice haircuts
They are not angels from God
They are some of the local drug-dealers
I long for a day
Where people don't pass by problems
They try to resolve them
When someone see's a mess
They clean it
Versus quickly walking in the opposite direction
Pretending to have never seen anything
I long for a day
That people realize they are no better
Then anyone else that they share this earth with
God did not leave the whole earth
To one elite class
And tell everyone else to work hard
And make the elite class comfortable
Because they are the rulers
God entrusted all of us with the earth
To share as brother and sister
The man across from you on the subway
The guy selling hotdogs on the corner
The CEO of a company
The banker at the local bank
The florist
The baker
The butcher
Nurses
Doctors
The guy sleeping on the park bench
The woman and her three children in the shelter
All of these people
Are equal
Brothers and Sisters
I long for a day
That people can finally turn off the TV
Throw away the magazines
Fold up the newspaper
And stop listening to the lies
The they have been feeding us
For years upon years upon years
When girls can see their own beauty
And then don't need a mirror to do so
Where goodness can be promoted
Verses flaunting every bad aspect of life
I long for a day
A day that everyone can finally understand
The norms society has set up
And the beliefs that had about people
Were ridiculous
And wrong
I long for a day like that
But who am I to say
I'm a mere peasant
Lower then the dirt on your shoes
And although I passionately long for a day like that
I doubt there is one coming
But yet, I'm strangely content
I suppose it is because the dream is still alive
Its still alive with in me
And maybe I won't reach many
Maybe I will reach a few
And that dream will transform them
I'm a mere peasant
Lower then the dirt on your shoes
Yet I have hope in that day
And you?  What will you choose?




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