poetry
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It's not just about us anymore.
Our history was nearly erased. We fought, And fought, And fought; To find a place, To be heard, To bring back a few grains of what we've lost. There are voices running around us; The voice of a boy who walked home with iced tea and skittles, The voice of a woman who was peacefully reading in her car, The voice of a man who was taking a jog, The voice of a boy who was playing with his toy gun, The voice of a man who CAN'T BREATHE, Voices of many others brutally murdered, Voices of those who never stood a chance, Voices of many who were unarmed, Voices of many dead, innocent children, Many of whom never had a voice at all. They forcefully carve their existences Into our story; Into the spoken textbooks of our people. These are stories, Names, Friends, And family That cannot be forgotten. They need to be acknowledged Because they, too, have become a part of our story; A part of our journey To the promised land our people have constantly sought. We cannot turn our backs on them Because they, too, are fighting, And fighting, And fighting; To find their place, To be heard, To bring back their homes, To find justice for the people they lost, And for the history that will also be erased If we don't take a stand together.
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AuthorMy name is Alexander Fang. I'm a college student studying Pharmaceutical Chemistry at University of California, Davis. This site is an amalgamation of my thoughts, dreams, and the reality I live in. It will consist of my writing, mostly. Archives
August 2020
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