Imagine racism never existed and borders were drawn only on maps, not hearts,
where justice walked freely, not fenced in by law,
where truth wasn’t filtered through prejudice charts,
and peace wasn’t something we only foresaw.
Imagine ableism never existed and their name was put to use,
not reduced to produce, not judged by what they could produce.
Not a flaw to erase, not a sign of inefficiency,
But a different kind of strength, a different kind of ability.
Imagine neglect never existed and every child was seen as whole,
Where safety was standard, not a goal,
where bedtime meant peace not dread,
and no one had to flinch at what wasn’t said.
Imagine neurodiversity was never called a defect,
where difference is power not something to correct.
Where stimming is sacred, not something to hide,
And every brain is honored with pride.
I'm no John Lennon but I believe the world can live as one,
not in perfect harmony, but in work that’s never done.
In the mess, in the fight, in the breath we share,
in the truth that justice is always there.
duskfall creature,
tipsy on the blood of the covenant,
tell me, when did you pull the ninth card?
when your fangs grew in
and your eyes grew tired,
what made you build the castle walls?
the sunlight burns, you protest,
every silver-backed mirror a reminder to forget.
close the books, put down your stakes,
because the real world doesn’t work like that, creature of the night.
shame hasn’t cured the illness.
you paint a picture of their stares in the back of your eyelids
etch their whispers into the corners of your mind,
bear the weight of their crosses.
duskfall creature,
drunkenly playing the hermit,
why do you push the wooden stake against your own chest?
What's that robed in gleaming emeralds rare,
Among the so-called dark-hued junkets plain?
So in blackest nooks glittering gems do glow,
Where prejudice would like them labelled vain?
Bravest arms that swift swords in virtue wave,
Cry for the very plunder their rawest valor gave;
Lying hands that didn't any valiant battles fight,
Claim the loot and push its owners out of sight.
Who is that warrior in harm's way yet unbent,
In peril's fierce path still going fast and stout?
See with what peerless conquest unparalleled,
The fitting patriot fags foes with fearless rout?
The country-loving martyr in clammy attires red,
Misses the full liberty into which his bravery led.
The country-hating bigot with faint fallacies bleak,
Takes all glory and dubs him an undeserving freak.
If Nature herself can't her succinct laws rewrite,
Don't tell me that Black is not as good as White!
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