By
Jackie Lopez
Fear came to strangle my pen when it wrote words such as:
“The Rise of Facsism and Its Demise,” and “The New Civil Rights Movement.”
Fear wanted to kill my pen for those words.
It struck it once.
It struck it twice.
But my pen continued.
She could take any beating from fascism.
She is a poet that way.
Her ink lies like blood on the floor and she still lives and gets on.
What can I tell you about my pen.
She is courageous and put on the misguided list.
She knows no others that would hand her a prison sentence.
You can devote your life entirely to her, and you will never regret it.
For she writes down your heart’s desires.
She captures the acts of fascism precisely:
She was in the city schools.
Now, she is lying along the hot sands of tomorrow.
My pen is resilient.
She never caters to the oligarchy even if it means her life.
I know.
Because she made me that way.
I adhere to her every beck and call
and lend my soul whenever she wants it.
Because I love her.
“The Rise of Facsism and Its Demise,” and “The New Civil Rights Movement.”
Fear wanted to kill my pen for those words.
It struck it once.
It struck it twice.
But my pen continued.
She could take any beating from fascism.
She is a poet that way.
Her ink lies like blood on the floor and she still lives and gets on.
What can I tell you about my pen.
She is courageous and put on the misguided list.
She knows no others that would hand her a prison sentence.
You can devote your life entirely to her, and you will never regret it.
For she writes down your heart’s desires.
She captures the acts of fascism precisely:
She was in the city schools.
Now, she is lying along the hot sands of tomorrow.
My pen is resilient.
She never caters to the oligarchy even if it means her life.
I know.
Because she made me that way.
I adhere to her every beck and call
and lend my soul whenever she wants it.
Because I love her.
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