bruised knuckles and stained shirts
drenched in blood
the never ending chorus of yells and fists are being thrown in the air
and thrown in someone’s face

steel toed boots and spiked up hair
marching towards the road of rebellion
and trying to avoid getting caught in the soft linen and lace of their parents’ teachings

this is the generation of the fallen and the revolutionary
we start riots and protests for our natural born rights that their founding fathers somehow forgot in their midst of trying to shape a nation far too evolved

we are the ones mistaken for brutes and told to be quiet
to be seen and not heard
to sit and never stand
to go with the conscious flow
and never to disobey the righteous acts of those before us

cracked teeth and broken nails
we have fought for far too long
but still not long enough
the generations to come won’t remember our story
our fight
for justice
for liberty
for the right to exist

—By Triniti W., 17, Miami