I never doubted my gliding flight like a baby bird,
I have always trusted the free winds of democracy.
It offers justice for those whose freedoms are deferred.
It grants inclusiveness to those so threatened by autocracy.
I am just a poet, still believing synergy has wings,
I am just a poet trusting economic popular will,
a working-class autarky of mutual planning.
An open, creative society of affinity and skill.
This is democracy not beyond our reach,
This is wealth and power shared equally by all,
The triumphant fruition of a class-conscious breach,
To alter social relations and scale capital’s steep wall.
Yet, democracy’s constraints cannot now be ignored.
They accumulate like blisters in a third-degree burn.
Fascism is increasingly fashionable, normal, and adored.
White rage and vengeance poison politics at every turn.
We watch the canary in the coal mine die.
No new democracy is possible in this noxious air.
Under the Insurrection Act, lost freedoms multiply.
Under martial law, only the elite will be spared.
But I am just a poet, believing in what binds us,
I am just a poet convinced of a universal empathy,
A place where we welcome diversity as a plus,
A home where universal compassion is our destiny.