The Children of a Lesser God

We are the huddled masses yearning to be free but living in itself lay is often rose-colored glasses, and remains quite the mystery. We ache for freedom transfixed some random yet open display of races, children, braggarts, heroes, and cowards intermixed, with declarations of straight, transgender and gay. What does it really matter as we align when each one of us live separate lives barely marking time with impacts undefined just giving everything in life a try to survive We rarely know what we want or need, buried deep lay the truths of who we are shouldn't we be grateful that we are free to believe that a god, kind and loving created dust from stars? It doesn't matter if you're white, yellow, black or brown or if you're straight or gay or a giant tree or mustard seed each is creation of an unseen god pulling up when you fall down god doesn't answer every prayer, god gives you what you need.