Poems From The Protest by: Sahid Kanu Poem by Sahid Alhaji Kanu

We did not bring swords—
we brought signs.
We did not bring fire—
but they lit one in our minds.
We marched not for chaos,
but for a voice,
and found ourselves
fighting to be heard
in the noise.

These are poems from the protest—
written in dust and breath,
on cardboard sheets,
in the face of death.
Every chant,
every lifted hand,
a verse they tried
not to understand.

We stood in circles, not to pray,
but to promise—
That silence is not peace and peace is not silence.
They called it riot, We called it grief
They called it law, We called it thief

Because justice never wore the badge
that beat us down.
And freedom never had to ask
to walk through town.

These poems don't rhyme—
they bleed.
They rise from knees
scraped raw on concrete.
They come from lungs filled
with tear gas and truth,
from mothers who mourn
and the courage of youth.

Poems from the protest—
unwritten in books,
but etched in hearts
and second looks.
One day, when they ask what freedom cost, we'll hand them these verses—
so they count every loss.