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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Mohamed Bouazizi, a poor man who sold produce from a cart, in a country bleeding from the open wound of corruption, got up that morning expecting to do nothing more than support his family with the sales he could make selling his fruits and vegetables. He played the game like any Wall Street banker. Buy low and sell high. Unlike Wall Street he faced heavy regulation. Unlike Wall Street he was physically slapped in the face. Unlike Wall Street... Mohamed Buoazizi had no power. He tried. He tried to find some power. He ran to the governor's office in an attempt to get his electronic scales back. The doors were closed. No one would listen. "If you don't see me, I'll burn myself." Mohamed cried. This... was his only power. He walked down the street. He bought a can of gasoline. He walked back to the governor's office and stood in the middle of the street. He screamed, "How do you expect me to make a living?" And then he set himself on fire. Mohamed Bouazizi's last breath was the birth of Tunisian Winds. Mohamed Bouazizi was not one of life's winners. He was only trying to support his family, And live a decent life, Like so many others. But listen! Because of Mohamed Bouazizi something's growing. Tunisian winds! There's more to life than being a winner and so often the winners they forget that their world is built on a multitude of shoulders, a sea of blood, an ocean of human sweat... the shoulders, the blood, the sweat of men and women like Mohamed Bouazizi. Tunisian Winds blew along the shores of the Mediterranean. Tunisian Winds blew through Egypt and Libya, through Oman and Yemen. Tunisian Winds blew through Morocco and Lebanon. Tunisian Winds are blowing. Tunisian Winds shook the banners in Zucotti Park. Tunisian Winds are blowing. Sometimes they seem to go still. But they are still blowing. They just keep blowing. Tunisian Winds Tunisian Winds Tunisian Winds
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