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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “i am not alone” Down in the Dirt, v182 (the April 2021 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Excerpts from the Plague Years the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2021 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2021 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Fighting for the Dawn

Michael Cardwell

Hope calls to me, then flips me the bird, stealing my faith
and sapping my heart. I fight on through the night
for there’s always a dawn, but night plunges so dark
the human in humanity might be all but gone, so I pray to
a God, a Savior, and Ghost for love, hope and
healing, but all the angels in heaven must be
asleep because all that I get is hate in
the street with the colors at war
piss on you newcomers
get out of my sight
call different subhuman and not worthy of life
straight whites allowed but black, brown,
red, different, or diverse, move on out, hit the bricks
what’s become of the future Martin dreamed about
where are the ideals of Mandela and Chavez
the freedoms from Lincoln, the love from Bergoglio
so, I sit here and weep with my head in my hands
the tracks of my tears fall twisting to ground
world broken in two and I don’t have glue but
I wipe my face dry, stand tall, pick up my load,
hate will not win this fight I decide no longer
a sheep there’s a wolf in my eyes I am
not Martin, Chavez, or Bergoglio, not pure in my heart
but I am one of millions and we cannot let
humanity fall.......if hate wants a war
then brother, war it will be

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