Stand Up (Song, Sing To The Tune Of Hands Held High By Linkin Park) Poem by Star Dust

When you cut it out,
It’s glass not happiness,
No one sees the light,
It reflects off the sight,
New rainbow in the sky,
And again we cry,
When our leaders are gone,
They’re in the roads,
Under the loads and loads,
Of what we got,
And again the rain comes crashing down,
Bouncing off the rubber,
Trickling down,
It falls,
It rolls,
It drizzles down the painted sky,
Gold oak leaf,
Carved in my soul,
Like a stolen sight,
Like a stolen might,
In a case so light,
Made out of plastic,
In a bulb so electric,
Like elastic,
It’s pathetic,
How much we hate,
How much we wait,
It’s never going to come,
It’s never show,
And again I wonder,
Why when we need our leaders,
They’re anxious and hiddin’,
Like if they can’t find us,
They’re not gonna blow our homes,
Or stuff, our lives,
We never got it right,
We got to fight,
Not with guns or actions,
Or even our transmissions
But we’ve to speak out,
Stand up and shout,
Say we’ve got a county,
And we’re not gonna let it down,
We need to hold hands,
And put a foot forward,
We need to share spirit,
Louder, they can’t hear it,
In the stalls at the mall,
They’re waitin’ for us to fall,
But we’ve got to stand tall,
Again we cry,
And why, and why,
When we try it on,
Know it don’t look too good,
But we’re coverin’ up,
In this black world,
It’s washable paint,
Where’s the soap,
Oh we left it back with our answers,
Back along the road,
Back in the city called Heaven,
Where’s the problem,
Do we even remember,
What we’re fightin’ about,
What we’re crying about,
But hey, when we’re listenin’ to pop,
We’ve got to stop,
And when the red color flashes,
And everything is ashes,
We’ve gotta watch at the end of the day,
‘Cause they might blow our houses, or homes,
On the blocks, in the roads,
‘Cause they’re bring their guns,
Their hate and their stuns,
We’ve got to show them what’s it’s all about?
It’s love and compassion,
Not hate and thrashin’,
Stop sitting on the couch,
Stop with your slouch,
We’ve gotta love each other,
We’ve gotta love our mothers,
Our sisters, our brothers,
We need to look them in the eye,
And say, “no, why? ”
‘Cause they’re hatin’ us,
Hatin’ our pride,
Why, we ain’t afraid to die,
‘Cause we did it to live,
To live with freedom.