Stains

Holding tiny hands in crowded streets
Panic wants to overtake
But there's no time

Panic should have happened
a long time ago

Before we turned cold
Before we interjected our opinions
into who can love who
Before we determined
how someone felt inside

But now-
Now we are left
With the stains of hatred on our hands
Because fear has crept in & held on

So we grip those little hands tighter
Teach them to love whoever
Be whatever
And set them free in this hatred
we let be created

-melanie