You ask me why I care, why I fight?
I care for the boy that binds his breasts
only to feel the pain of parent’s disapproval,
the thought that bathrooms are somehow moral
that dating is dangerous and could lead to death.
I care for the young woman who can’t attend college
because her parents slipped silently through Texas
cradle-bound in a train, straight A’s now, she is
everything we could want in an American Dreamer.
I care for the man whose factory shut down
who is jobless, depressed, and lost, outsourced
to foreign shores: still he sings his skills
could craft metallic beauty, yet machines won.
I care for the Iranian grandmother whose hijab
was egged as she was vulnerable, grocery shopping
how she cried in front of her young grandson
thinking this is not the country she came to.
I fight for you, for them, for us.
We will not go silently into the night.
We will rage, rage
against the dying
of the light.