Resistance Whispers
Resistance Whispers In Little Rock today, a tale unfurls, Of masked men, cold cars, and frightened worlds. Three rolled up, with badges and might, Chasing shadows through fluorescent light. Inside a store, a family stood, While fear ran swift, and chaos would. But out in the street, a quiet spark, A homeless man lit up the dark. He let the air from the tires hiss, A small act born from righteous bliss. The captives screamed, one voice rang true, “I was born in Cleveland—what about you?” Doors swung wide, freedom reclaimed, Robinhood ran, unashamed, unnamed. The cop just watched, a shrug, a glance, No one chasing a fleeting chance. Resistance whispers, loud in hearts, In streets and stores, in unseen parts. It isn’t gone, it isn’t dead, It lives in each brave thing unsaid. To our friends in the U.S., hear this call: We see you, we stand with you, through it all. Even when the media hides the fight, Every small spark ignites the night.