The Nameless

to those whose names

are never cast in Bronze,

who live where the church

bells ring without speaking

dreams, and had countries

once on other shores. to the 

people not remembered in

books, celebrated with great

monuments, subjected daily

in schools to manufactured

ignorance, who fall into the

earth without notice, work 

to eat American and are not

recalled from the rising sun

until its going down. when

I plead for heavenly hope,  

feel unbearably weary and 

sick of heart, I remember 

you.  how beautiful it is to

breathe knowing my life is

fastened to you, that you will

always live in me and never 

die from indifference, shame, 

hunger, imprisonment and 

nameless.  shackled, chained

or waiting to be free I will shout

your name in countries eager

to become ashes.