We march for our freedom and sing for their justice.

I am scared.

We fight, but it seems to only provoke those with weapons and privilege.

Privilege, what does that mean?

Nothing, to those who have it; but everything to those who don’t.

We have the same souls, the same human rights and the same eyes.

Yet you don’t see the same.

Our lungs filled with anger but only to speak positivity and peace.

Your lungs filled with ammo as you scream at us; as bullets fill our chest entering our lungs.

Yet we still cough up peace and justice.

We still say their names.

This isn’t a fight, it’s an assault on those who have nothing but the chains around their hands with their hands up in a fist to show that we aren’t afraid anymore.

Afraid of your “privilege”

Afraid to speak up.

Afraid to sing out.

We won’t fight;

 an eye for an  eye will make the world go blind.

You gave us freedom of speech, so now it's time to give us freedom of life.

When the sun goes down, who is in control?

Control in numbers, control in views.

Sooner or later, you will give in

Until then we will keep marching; keep singing our freedom songs.

Keep our hands connected and 

Hold On.