We're all in this together.
We never were alone.
We've just been told
we're different.
And so the words were sewn
into a fabric, sewn up tight
by the dirty hands with the needle
and the threads became the grime.
It made the fabric
and wove the shame
into it tightly
without any name.
For without a name
there's just a blank space,
no visible face
to cast the blame on.
Rip up the threads.
Rip it in shreds.
Each race take a thread
and pull it apart.
Your common purpose
will be what you see.
And peace will finally start.
Love will be there
for we're creatures from God
that wants us to share
in a fabric made of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem