Their Walls, Our Walls

Rise, my siblings and my people and my friends.
Take your hammers, your crowbars, and your fists
and beat the mortar to dust beneath your feet.
But why is correction and connection our burden
when the architect and muse are those who should atone.
Do not expect conversation, we are too busy with conservation
With saving each other from extinction.
Why should we scream peacefully and live silently?
It is they who should be begging our forgiveness.

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