The Fight

This isn't my fight,
I say with hidden hands balled into fists
Ready to defend those which the comment was against
My knuckles let go
And I step back-

Stay in my lane

Let those affected use their voices
Be heard

This isn't a fight,
I overhear as someone decides that the wish for equality is lowering them
Until their bodies sink into the dirt
With the weight of their hate pressing on their back
I watch as the other man shouts his words
To an empty mind
And shallow sky

People cannot change
We discuss, listening to the venom spew from their mouth
Lies and false statistics
Is there anything better this person has to spend their time?

Other than preaching the gospel to a crowd whose text is printed differently
Someone starts yelling back
And I hold my ground

This isn't my fight,
This isn't my fight
I'm white.
American constitution written on white lined paper
My skin glowing in the dark as my anger teeters to its limit
My privilege does not equal what they've been put through
But I see the inequality
I watch the news of the murders calling the shooter- a good boy and the shot a thug

The job opportunities that fluctuate like the stock market

My anger teeters to its limit

I never say anything.
I should have.
Use my privilege, my rights to raise the voices of those who are fighting currently and those who already lost their battle
I do have a say
I can call people out
Exclaim the values I hold dear and what I've seen
Quote and talk about other activists
Like Deray McKesson and the Black Lives Matter community
And then when they're finally listening
Because I'm white so “surely” my words have meaning
I step back

You stand up for what you believe in
Hold your morals and what you were raised on
Equality and justice
Are words thrown around these days like bullets
And one gets locked in the heart of a child
I stand up for what I believe in
And I'll use my voice to raise up the ones that are muted to my own,


packed down into the floor

I go against the generation before me
We go against the teaching's of the generation before us
And we will fight back
With our words
And our hope
Continue until the equality line is cemented to our country's future
And when my history textbook runs out of bleach

This poem is about: 
My country


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