Open letter to all my fellow spell-casters, poets, wordsmiths.

We shuffle through the days,
Like we’re on some kind of autopilot,
Eyes glazed, hearts muted,
The world outside begging for our attention
While we scroll, scroll, scroll.
Numb to the chaos.
The injustice.
The cries for help that echo from every corner of our reality.

What are we waiting for?
A sign? A moment of clarity?
Or are we just too comfortable
In our padded prisons of convenience?
Too scared to confront the truth?
That every time we ignore a voice…
A heartbeat…
We are sleepwalking into our own graves?

Every headline that passes us by
Is a call to action.
A challenge to wake up.
But we hit snooze,
Wrap ourselves in the blankets of distraction,
And tell ourselves that tomorrow…
Tomorrow we’ll care.
Tomorrow we’ll rise.

But tomorrow becomes a cycle.
A loop of inaction.
We leave behind footprints of apathy
For future poets, future activists
To sift through like ashes.
Searching for remnants of passion.
For signs that we stood for something.
That we fought for justice.
That we raised our voices against the tide.

So what will they find?
Will they find our silence?
Or will they uncover a legacy?
A fierce declaration that says
We were here? We mattered?
That we refused to be mere spectators
In a world that demanded our engagement?

Let us shatter this trance.
Let us be bold.
Let us scream until our throats are raw.

Until our hearts pound against the walls of indifference.
Let us be the fire that ignites change.
The spark that lights the path for those who follow.
The voices that refuse to fade into the background.

We are not ghosts.
We are warriors.
And our impact can be a tidal wave.
A wave that washes over the injustices,
That lifts the marginalized,
That stands firm against oppression.
We owe it to ourselves,
To those who came before us,
And to those who will come afterwards,
To leave a legacy that demands attention.
That echoes through time.
That says we were here…
We stood for something.
And we dared to wake up.

So let’s rise, together,
And carve our names into the fabric of history.
Let’s be the voices that echo
Long after we’re gone.
Reminding the world
That we were awake,
That we were alive,
And that we chose to fight.

(c) BobChristianmedia