A Septet Poem of Resistance
It is not too soon,
It is not too late,
The enemy does not yet
Stand at the gate;
But trust me in this,
I do not exaggerate,
He is not far distant.
Whatever you do
Whatever you don’t,
It matters more
Than you might think;
Do not hide yourself
Under the stones
That others have thrown.
Nor doubt for a moment
That your voice is mute,
That your presence means
Next to nothing;
It is in your silence
Where evil sinks
Its teeth into your soul.
Far better to think,
To act with restraint,
And show your resistance,
Than to wait for the day,
When no one shall hear,
Not one will listen
To the words you might say.
Speak now your fears,
Communicate,
Confront them straight on,
Do not hesitate,
Compassion demands
You take the stand,
Bravely face the man
Who would strip you of honor,
And make you his slave
For the sake of a dollar,
His luxurious life,
Built on the lie
He is better than you,
This is his birthright.
Call it the evil
It clearly is,
Call for its ending,
Cast to the abyss,
That is the place
From which it comes,
And where it must return.
For all that is human,
For all that is good,
No longer sit silent,
Nor hopelessly cower,
No hour’s delay,
Not too soon, not too late,
Now we must take hold of our souls.
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