Undocumented. A surplus human whose work’s never complimented.
Tossed aside. You don’t wanna leave but you’ve got nowhere to hide.
You and your family, y’all have no rights.
Powerless; such a strong person but you have no way to fight.
Lost in the rushing wind.
It blows hard, and I’ve been there friend.
Naked. Stripped of all you own, except the handcuffs that cut to the bone.
They put those on you against your will. You’d be dead too if looks could kill.
Hated, but you’ve done no wrong.
Squelched, like an interrupted song.
It gets lost in the rushing wind.
It blows hard. I’ve been there friend.
Sacred. They say such is life but then show -you- hatred.
It’s because of your identity. Yours simply falls outside of their empathy.
Wait? Didn’t Jesus say “Love your neighbor as yourself?”
“Bloody woke idea! Keep your underpaid hands of my wealth!”
It’ll get lost in the rushing wind.
I’ve been there friend, and suffered for my sins.