Better This World

No Struggle, No Progress
Frederick Douglas, 1857

The whole history of progress of human liberty
Shows that all concessions
Yet made to her august claims
Have been born of earnest struggle.
If there is no struggle
There is no progress.

Those who profess to favor freedom,
And yet deprecate agitation,
Are men [and women] who want crops
Without plowing up the ground,
They want rain
Without thunder and lightning.
They want the ocean
Without the awful roar of its waters.
This struggle may be a moral one;
Or it may be a physical one;
Or it may be both moral and physical;
But it must be a struggle.
Power concedes nothing without a demand.
It never did, and it never will.
Find out just what any people
Will quietly submit to
And you have found the exact measure
Of injustice and wrong
Which will be imposed upon them,
And these will continue till they are resisted. . .
The limits. . . are prescribed
By the endurance
Of those whom. . [are] oppress[ed].

Men [and Women] may not get all they pay for
in this world, but they pay for all they get.
If we ever get free
from the oppressions and wrong heaped on us,
we must pay for their removal.
We must do this
by labor,
by suffering,
by sacrifice,
and if needs be

by our lives and the lives of others


blue bird

A caged bird, beautiful eyes, spirit so big for its little bird body. He should’ve been a lion or a cheetah with his heart so big. But his spirit was free, so the bird was he.

But locked behind bars his spirit was locked down. He learned knew ways while caged.

Until the day they set him free, as he flew away he realized they tied his leg to a string, he wouldn’t be flying too far away this time.

Back to the same ol life he left behind. But his new content didn’t fit this old form. He felt crammed into a small box, he needed so much more.

For when this happened was when he met me. Even I couldn’t fit into his small box with him and he wanted more than what we could have here. He wanted to have me but his life wasn’t what he wanted so feeling restless he left me. Emotionally first, then physically.

And then he left us all. But he had to. No one could blame him. His spirit so free, caged for so long, he flew away.

Beautiful bird, with a beautiful soul. Singing songs of a caged bird set free.