What happened?
When we were young
we dreamt of wings
carrying us to new heights
never before imagined.
We saw ourselves
changing the world
with scarves flowing behind us,
dilated eyes wide -
a scream of outrage on our lips.
We were being sent to war
against our will
arrested for speaking our minds
and our long hair was
a symbol
of rebellion.
Our music held our causes like a crucible
and feminism, civil rights and change
meant something.
If one of us gained fame, she used it
like a podium and spoke his version of the truth.
Now we post on Facebook and call that good.
Sign a MoveOn petition and think we’ve
done something.
When we look in the mirror
all we see is the hair, makeup,
wrinkles;
We don’t look ourselves in the eye anymore.
For if we did,
we’d remember who we are now,
and realize who we were
who we wanted to be
is still there
waiting.
Meanwhile
all that we once raged against
rumbles on
steamrolling the planet
crushing lives, families
whole peoples
under the corporate jackboot.
No mercy.
And soon,
no one left
to say a word against
it.
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