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Muddied love-stamped
footprints of hope
overriding fear
we move on,
because we can, you see.
Let there be no furrow in
your brow, for
the army of righteousness is
rarely
right.
We have waited long
and weathered much
and worked so damn hard.
So we march, arm in arm,
our insides
outside, on P-L-A-C-A-R-D-S,
the still elusive song
of equality
on our lips.
by Melissa Kro.