Names

They turn their faces when we speak
Cross the street, call us weak, say our
Hope is outdated, faith
A crutch for fools and broken choirs
They roll their eyes at a words like
Truth, say faith is fear in sunday clothes.
We're too loud for quieter
Rooms, too slow for a world
That only moves
They say we chose the losing side, that
Grace is weakness dressed in lies.
They isolate us, mark us
Strange, say love like this will never change.