You could miss it if you blink.
This little city that sleeps.
Sinking into forgotten promises and
trapped under outlier’s perceptions thrust upon them like drift nets on its prey.
They are swimming upward,
but losing breaths and movement due to someone else’s mistakes.
It is still here.
Remaining rooted in possibility
Cautiously waiting for their turn
at the world that refuses to acknowledge their potential.
It is rolling each memory of
disappointment into resistance,
into fuel against apathy.
Roaring, bubbling, pining for the chance
Because in this city,
In this place no one wants to remember,
There is an uproar beginning taking
There is a movement of minds
collaborating for change.
There are children being raised to
believe in their chance,
To protect the freedom of their
minds as if it’s existence holds the answers to generational reluctance.
It is here.
Lining the streets with a rhythm
Filling the sky with drumbeats booming
The march of education –
The simplest form of revolution-
Can be heard from
corner to corner,
heart to soul,
paper to pen,
Furiously working together to create a
symphony of change.
So march on,
And let the notes that you play take hold of the hearts that don’t believe.
With your S.W.A.G at your side
and your dreams as your sun.
Because you will get there, the
music will never run out.
You WILL get there.
You will show them everything precious
about this city.
You will show them the treasures this
city holds secret.
You will show them that your dreams
and your hearts and your future are worth fighting for.
You will prove to them,
That this city, is in fact,
March on Class of 2013, peace.