Charity Case

Every “charity case” I’ve ever met has been a fighter.

And you?

You’ve never had to fight for anything in your life.

You’ve never fought for justice, one safe night, or the right to even exist.

But still you think we’re below you,

When you see us resting in the streets,

Singing,

Speaking,

Working,

Marching,

Living.

As you walk to your secure office that you’ve had since college.

Oh I’m not saying you haven’t worked, of course you have.

But not as hard as her,

And him,

And them,

And their children,

And not for the same things they have,

Not as long as they have.

Life to us is a fight, a fight that has a new round every day. And sure, the first few punches hurt pretty bad,

but once they keep coming,

We get used to the pain and learn to punch back.

But you, who have been given everything and still see yourself as so much better than we,

You get knocked out in the first round.

So remember that, when you sneer at her, for speaking her native language as she prepares your food.

And when you judge him, because he sleeps in the only dry safe place he can find.

Or them, for daring to love each other,

Or me for saying something about it and trying to win the fight.

Remember that we’ve defeated demons,

And you’re nothing more than a mosquito.