(no subject)

[angels_grace]

impending hands

I belong to the mass of cleared identity
a part of the fight for integrity
lost behind words that are empty
epiphany,
evaporating.
I stand on a line of leprosy
a common bond held by disease
trapped within the American Dream
sheltered screams,
my destiny.
I live for a moment of equality
a tiny space that allows us to breathe
a trust not over taken by apathy
a happy place,
impending relief.
one man stands before we
promises our empathy
stranger walking above our streets
a shallow hole,
drowning.
tomorrow questions everything
in the hands of victory
the peoples’ cry is a lonely plea
an overlooked,
possibility.