there will be no end

They say it’s coming to an end.
I have trouble with that word.
For an “end” should mean it’s done,
that everything is back to the way it was.
But none of that is true.

For there’s a hole in my heart, our hearts.
Too many people had to part.
They had to leave, taken away from their families.
Children, fathers, mothers, daughters.
All are gone.

You said they had to go.
They weren’t criminals.
They went to school.
They went to work.
They struggled through.
They knew what they had to do.

But you took that from them.
Now they’re scattered and lives shattered,
with due process hard to find.
Only tatters in the wind,
where they had been.

How can you fill that kind of hole in a family’s heart,
for they were told this land was theirs,
as much as it is mine.
I can’t imagine the trauma,
the cruelty of this kind.

And you say it’s over.
You say it’s the end.

Heartache, tears, and lost years.
They can’t go back to the way it was.
They can’t just flip the “closed” sign to “open”
and expect the doors to open.
You shut them out.
You told them they weren’t worthy of more.

So how can we believe that it ends like this?

And through it all,
we linked arms
and shouted in the air.
We told you that we care.

That there’s more to who we are
than categories so bare —
illegal, legal, black and white.

For when we unite,
we release a power
that breaks any end you see in sight.

Our solidarity,
our caring,
our compassion,
our luv for our neighbors
is what keeps us together.

This isn’t over.
We know that to be true.

There will be no end.

For we’re in this for each other.

Luv is forever.