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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.