Now, I’m beginning to wonder
how many people are left to flounder
and crack, breaking
under the world’s ever strengthening squeeze.
And as I’m sitting, watching, waiting,
Listening to the ever frustrating
Cries for justice,
I realize there’s a need for armor and for plating
For these children flying in the breeze.
So, brothers, sisters, wear your armor,
whether bedazzled like a snake charmer,
Or if it is simply the shoes upon your feet,
Wear it with pride,
and refuse to be beat,
For with this advice,
you won’t be incomplete.