She knew in her bones
the right from the wrong,
and in doing so her dreams
grew from weak into strong.
His passion is fiercer
than the fire in his eyes,
and so he slaves away
to compete against wealthier lives.
Her voice bounces off statues
of people she admires,
because she knows her thoughts
will spark the courage she desires.
He gave all his strength
to be in the land of the free,
only to be protesting
crouched down on one knee.
She stares firmly
and mimics the pillars which stand,
holding up buildings--and dreams--
so colossal and grand.
You see, hope is calling
deep from their lungs:
a volcano that will erupt to touch
both the old and young.
These two are not alike.
No, not at all,
and yet they will forever be
the ones who will not fall.