Said the angry man, from his angry world.
His angry gun in angry fists.
Said the rebel child to hate-filled skies.
Rebellious eyes and hopeless cries.
Said the mother of five, buried alive,
One winter’s day by soldiers’ lies.
Love lost life.
Blood will pulse, in empty veins,
Goad you on, unwelcome breath.
A child in someone’s eyes.
What am I.
When you burned my books,
Burned my heart.
Fuck you. When I love you so. And still
I am no one. My voice makes no sound. Engulfed by a world of billions. I am irrelevant. And still, I cannot mute this voice.
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