Hands scarred by poverty
You stand in defense  

Your poised jab protects
pointless, hollow treasures  

Clinched fists silence
passions that could change the world  

And still
with white knuckles,
you hold on  

Letting go requires more
strength than hanging on  

But, loosen your grip on emptiness
Sprinkle your gifts like magic dust  

Change the world, I say
Cling to authentic riches  

with a damaged squeeze,
you hold on