Rise was written in 2018, when news reports began to appear on TV about children, some as young as babies, being held by the US government in wire cages in “tender age” detention camps located on our Southwestern border. How many children are actually living in these detention camps? How many others were sent to other locations, alone and with no family around to offer stability, and hope? Nobody really knows.

Whatever your political beliefs, surely we can all agree that nobody’s children belong in cages.  Let’s start with that.

Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments section at the end of the poem.


I am the hammer that misses the nail,

the match that refuses to light.

I am the sword that breaks in half,

the noose that refuses to tighten.

I am the call to arms that no one hears,

the bomb that will not explode.

Mine is the fist that will not clench.

Mine is the hand outstretched to help.

Mine is the voice raised in protest.

Mine is the silence, as I listen to others.

Politicians bicker and quarrel,

While in the distance, the fiddler plays his song.

It is up to us now, each one of us.

No one’s children belong in cages.

Parents, teach your children not to hate.

Better yet, show them how.

Together, we can change the world.

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