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Cold Day in Hell
“Cold day in Hell”, have you heard that phrase?
You probably haven’t, and if you have, it was probably in a daze.
Martin Luther King had a dream, he made that very clear. All racism, segregation, discrimination, he wanted to make it disappear.
“I have a dream,” he says. He wanted his children to live well. But even now, 60 years later, to make that true, would mean a cold day in hell.
In 1968, he was shot in the head, for just speaking up, he ended up dead.
There’s a vicious cycle for fighting, no matter how much you try. The battles that people go through, it’s enough to make families cry.
Malala Yousafzai, now there’s a name you’ve heard. Her battle for education ended up in broken bones.
In 2011, once again. A shot near her face landed her in bed.
Just like Dolores Huerta, another survivor. A soldier against labor, and a strong, determined fighter.
These people have two things in common, they fight for basic rights. They fight for their own safety, for years, days, and nights.
But these things will not change, unless there’s something done. There needs to be a community, it will not work if it’s just one.
There’s an irony in war, the change is never there. Gandhi saw better results enduring hunger he could hardly bear.
There needs to be a bond, we need to band together. Our time on Earth is scarce, we won’t be here forever.
It’ll be a cold day in hell when that happens, and we’re definitely not wizards; but we’ve come this far today. Maybe one day there’ll be a blizzard.
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This is for the Kansas Martin Luther King Poem Contest.