Member Poem

We the people
We the people.
We the tired, we the poor
We your huddled masses
We that you spit on and beat
We whose blood and sweat stains the land your houses stand on
We whose infant cries echo through the chambers of your Antebellums
We those without land
We women
We children
We blacks and browns
We queer
We who are not people in it’s eyes
We who have freedom waved in our faces
We who watch people spit venom defending a nation we are chained to
We the people
We the tired, we the poor
We your huddled masses
We the people ought to burn that piece of paper you tout in our faces
We the people ought to burn down the nation that we built
We the people ought to rise up
We should but we are tired
We have broken backs and hoarse voices
We have panged stomachs and bloodied faces
We ought to destroy the monster we were exploited to create
We should, but we are trampled
When we the people is violated
We say nothing
Because we were never the people in the first place