she watched us all put a price tag on anything we could her gifts neatly repackaged and presented in a way that is entirely misunderstood watered down and compromised lives that were once free have been stolen so now she calls on us to steal them back what s ours is ours the little we have we wait patiently at the end of the table for their scraps we fight amongst each other and emulate the first when we should identify with the last their suits are a symbol of the perpetual power of a dominant class see through the handshake and see the sneer in a smile you will all put your hand in theirs but you must remember they keep their plates full through acts of oppression and lies their cups of blood red wine flowing with the sweat of your kind she shakes and waves frantically to make us understand that we will have to learn to know patience in our nightmares a utopia just beyond our grasp a hand scolded and burning with the boiling bloodlust of our past in our dreams we live and love equal we walk with bitter clarity uncommon grace and as tall as the rest someday glowing and radiant