[attr="class","freiwanttbot"]
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When it’s all said and done[break]
We will pack our pain stained posters[break]
Pins labeled with our lives[break]
And close doors we fought so hard to open[break]
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We will say farewell to the days[break]
Our eyes were filled with what seemed an ever flowing river[break]
The days when our bodies painted cities and towns the color red[break]
When our voices strained broken yet kept speaking[break]
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Our hands blistered and bloody holding on to the promise of the end[break]
We will throw away our stigmas as well as the world’s[break]
We will throw away the doubts and the fears[break]
We will only hold on to our stories[break]
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The ones we carried through decades of suffering[break]
Our ribbons, the banners of our pride[break]
Our loss of friends and family[break]
And I don’t know[break]
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If we will have enough energy[break]
Or even the desire to ask[break]
What happened[break]
Or why the world was so mean[break]
We will probably just say thank you[break]
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Because what’s a good fight[break]
Without worthy opponents[break]
What is love, absent of hate[break]
What is strength without pain[break]
What would be life without our patchwork quilt of death[break]
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We will say Thank you[break]
Because it was all worth it[break]
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Mary Bowman