No one is illegal on this turning Earth,
we all rise from the same ancient birth.
One planet. One body. One human design.
Different colors, but the same bloodline.
We breathe the same air. We walk the same ground.
We laugh in the same voice. We cry the same sound.
Yet some men decided that whiteness was throne,
as if skin could crown them, as if they alone
were chosen by numbers, or blessed by the sun,
forgetting the truth that we all come from one.
We are human, not shadows, not names on a chart.
We are flesh, we are memory, we are bone, we are heart.
We are not secular machines built to obey.
We are living beings with a soul in the clay.
Our colors were never meant to divide.
They were meant to show beauty the world cannot hide.
A spectrum of stories, a tapestry spun,
a family of many that still beats as one.
We are not savages because our skin holds heat.
We are not threats because our histories meet
in deserts and islands and mountains and seas.
We are not danger. We are branches of trees
that share the same roots in the soil of time,
that rise from the same universal rhyme.
Cruelty has no color. Compassion has no shade.
Humanity is something no border ever made.
The lines that divide us were drawn by fear,
but the truth is older and louder and clear.
We are one species on one small sphere,
and the message is simple for anyone to hear:
No human being is illegal. Not now. Not ever.
Not on this land. Not on this planet.
Not while we breathe together.
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