This that rests inside us,
The innate ability to resist.
Ability generations learned,
A mistrusting hatred centuries earned,
The knowledge of the flung projectile,
The cleansing power of the burning street,
The loathing of the ruling hand,
The crackers gaze,
The constructed grip.
Your birthright accessed,
The suffering that picks the lock,
A bank of knowledge a skill a gift.
Comfort has led us to this hibernation
The struggle, less visible, has allowed us to forget.
But rouse, stir,
Reach for projectiles
This is a hatred you were born for,
A dignity to flaunt.
A health that is in you,
The inherited legacy,
That will trigger your ability to revolt.