24 April 2016


It was a bright summer day in June,
Our class was set to graduate in 2004.
The skies were clear and sunny,
But commencement was held indoors,
For what’s more important than the color of your stadium’s grass
When we’ve got something to say
About the stains you’ve paid so handsomely to erase?

I grow weary of being told to sit down
And to listen to your consultants and your promises.
I grow impatient when we cry out “YES WE CAN!”
Only to have you mock the fire, spreading throughout the land.

Thank you for playing the game.

It is our turn to speak.
You had your shot.
It is our turn to show you
Why the future is worth fighting for.

The simplest and the oldest lessons endure.
In a world where everyone
Shouts for likes,
Mines for shares,
Sometimes, what we need to do is
Tune out the noise,
Tune into our soul.

He’s teaching, we need to be quiet.

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