A Word from the Cripples

Posted: June 13, 2013

I've got something

to say.

It won't take long

Just as long as it took you

to snatch everything away

One fourth of the body is

the leg

You have crippled us

Cursing us to hobble

all of our lives.

I cannot run


on just

one leg.

Rip song

off of our tongues

to find songs are not Velcro but flesh

Snap the bows of the violins

in case the students could ever get the idea

that music

is alive

Because then you would have blood on your hands.

God forbid.

You see us as a problem

the classic class problem

INNER CITY streaked like mud across our faces

they're all on the street anyway.

But leeches don't suck out the disease

just the lifeblood.

I am angry

But I will not stoop

and hurt you

As you have hurt me

Thrusting fear

into our hearts

Why make us feel

so small


Forgotten by the people

whose duty it is to remember

Turn your back on your city

that chose not to choose


Because they feared

and now do all fears dawn true.

Bust the beehive

We will come out

In droves of wasps

We sting and live

to sting again

We will show ourselves to be

as formidable a foe

as all of those frackers

who you refuse to tax.

But you have also forgot

all of those ink marks slashed

with no faces or hopes or dreams or blood or flesh

Dismiss us

We cannot vote.

But in this country

we can speak.

Siduri Beckman is a ninth-grader at Julia R. Masterman School. She is the city of Philadelphia's first Youth Poet Laureate. She "felt like it was part of my job and my duty as a Masterman student to write a poem protesting the school budget cuts."

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