March for Our Lives – Boston, MA

I went to Boston this weekend and ran into the March for Our lives in the Boston Common. I was so touched as I wandered through thousands of people, old and young, big and small, white and black, and everything in between holding signs demanding change in the form of gun control.

A true gathering of community led by our youngest members of society. I left crying for the state of our world and the fact that our leaders no longer listen to the pleading of children, turning their backs and closing their eyes to the violence the United States inflicts upon itself.

It was devastating and at the same time, incredibly hopeful as I came across groups of school children with their makeshift signs shouting for change.

I couldn’t help feeling my heart grow as I looked upon this powerful and diverse group of children and thought, I am hopeful, for this is our future. 

A poem inspired by the event:

 

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Look at these children and tell me what do you see?

tears well to my eyes

as I feel a surge of sadness, hope, and pride

for our future.

These children –

standing atop mounds of trampled dirt snow

rising higher then than the “grown-up” footsteps

that stamped their mark

of bigotry, and hatred, and violence

leaving the steps of what they “know”.

 

the weight of the world

now rests on their small shoulders

demanding a stop to this man-made violence.

they must get off the slide,

stop chasing each other around the playground

and turn to the streets

marching with their size two feet

for action.

for change.

It’s time to turn the next page.

 

I see our future

their messages are colorful

and shout loud from their markers and papers

the only armor they need

is through their heart

not from an AR-15

“arm me with the arts”

“arm me with poetry”

 

for they know the true value

of words.

 

I see a group of strong individuals

no matter their color

no matter their class

no matter their size

they unite together.

when will these “grown-ups” take a leaf out of their book?

when will we learn to look less, listen more?

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