To those who we elected

To those whom we elected
For lack of better choice
I’d like to share a story
I’d like to share my voice

Once there was a woman
who marched to her own drum
a pharmacist, a feminist,
before the words were formed.

A sister, or a mother, she
but different from the rest
was shunned, marked and sacrificed
by those thought Heaven blessed.

Once there were some people
who tried to rekindle a nation’s pride,
The different soon would perish,
along with those who took their side.

This same story keeps replaying
in countless countries of this world
And not in ours, you say, and yet
Another law is rallied forth.

Those of unfamiliar religion,
those of darker tone of skin,
those of lesser class of people
those of less worthy region,

Must be gone or else must we
Undergo a change within
And realize we are not blessed
Just by the hue of our own skin.


So I say to those elected
Whether or not they be my choice
Please listen to your people’s stories,
And please don’t silence a single voice,

For someday you may be in need
Of a kind word, a thankless deed,
And where would you be if you succeeded
in ridding all but your own creed.

For if all left were just like you,
They’d blame their fate on someone new,
And who would save your skin, I ask,
if no one’s left to fulfill the task?