Wednesday, September 14, 2011

We are the dreamers.

Rat-a-tat pum pum, Rat-a-tat pum pum
Is the pining inside the pounding of this drum.
I am a one man band in a silent crowd,
and the desires of my heart are hushed silent as not to be heard aloud.
because I'm afraid if I tell the world my secrets and dreams,
it will come crashing down on top of me like the crumbling walls, and I will no longer stand tall.
But I will fall.

Short into the misunderstandings of many.
But I've been saving,
saving a small kindled hope into the core of this burning flame inside me that
heats up the beating drum without hesitation,
of the desires to rise up a nation full of love and compassion
to become one.

To become a family,
and I will be as familiar as the pied piper with my
rat-a-tat-pumm pum
Rat-a-tat pumm pumm
Because we are the sons.

And we are the daughters of the ones who were afraid,
but I am not afraid.
No,
not me,
because one day you'll see that in the midst of these shivering knees
and the ever-growing pleas there is acceptance,
there is a home.
Because all we want is a home.

A home that is the very foundation of the three things we need:

Security,
love,
and the ever-powerful support system to help us grow.
And to help us believe
that we were always meant for things greater than you or me
had expected.

But as I've detected,
we are cowards lying face first down in the mud
crying out for forgiveness and bending over in pain as our dreams and our hopes are crushed into the fist of self-loathing,
self-hate,
and our lowered self-esteem.

But when will we rise up,
and get off our knees and dust off our arms,
our legs,
our face,
and our chest that is full of this
Rat-a-tat pumm pumm
Rat-a-tat pumm pumm
rat-a-tat pumm
pumping the blood through our veins.

bringing the red to our cheeks as we fill with rage and anger.

that we didn't stand up before.

because our faces are on the floor.

and we can't reach the door.

because we are stuck sleeping.

in our imaginations.

only dreaming.

because we are the dreamers.

But all that's left of us,

is to become.

The dooers.

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