The we're why how know but?

The elephants in the room,
The one's are ever outside.
The one's as quiet as the tomb,
The one's they can't abide.

We're the one percenters,
We're the blackest of the sheep.
We're the great dissenters,
We're the one's who'll never sleep.

Why are we the who of this,
Why are we the chosen.
Why we hold the pain and bliss,
Why are our feelings frozen.

How do we relate the world,
How are we to manage.
How is it we be unfurled,
How to repair the damage.

Know that we are part the whole,
Know that we're the spice.
Know they now give us parole,
Know they now think twice.

But it will never be easy,
But it will always hurt.
But you may always feel queasy,
But it's them who we'll subvert.

-=oOo=-

This rhyming type works not so well,
I ought to stop for just a spell.
For otherwise I'll go to hell,
And left behind? Just my death knell!