by Knox F., 17
Mother told me to write a poem,
to stay on the right side of history.
So I write poems to prove that activism is not dead,
even when the world is ending.
And so,
I write to speak for all those who can’t.
I write for the joy of it.
I write because sometimes it is all I can do.
Because when the world is so terrible,
it wishes me dead,
I pick up a pen,
and let the words take over.
When I’ve run out of words to speak,
I write a million more.
When my story is over,
my words will continue to tell it again.
When it’s all over,
I look to my mother,
to find the joy,
in an endlessly hateful world
Eagan, Minnesota
Bridge Ink 