Who Has The Power?

Who has the power?
The young boy with dirt buried beneath his finger nails, digging holes to a better world?
The young girl mapping the stars on her front porch with a handful of pennies, nickels, and dimes?
The students who can’t sit still in their English class because they already have a story to tell, but no one will listen till it bruises?
Who has the power?
Those who live to love?
Those who love to learn?
Those who learn to live?
Those with canyon deep pockets of green gold?
Who has the power?
The owners of the eyes and minds in board meetings who turned in their dreams for designer suit?
The sharers of the software developed to bring the world to light?
The owners of tiny fingers and tiny toes that will grow or burn in that light?
Who has the power?
The poet?
The prophet?
The politician?
The green eyes gold haired man with a pearly white smile selling promises for dollar signs in good faith to saints and sinners?
The boy he used to be?
Spoon, to cereal, to mouth, cartoons on in a safe house, watching all alone?
The boys just like him now?
Who has the power?
The physicist?
The faithful?
The fearful?


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