Ode to a child
As a child every thought I fought,
Skipped happiness hopes we bought;
Sold in the bazaars that mint leaders,
We fought for our rivers,
There is a land lined with sand,
With diminishing physics and shaky hand;
We still bathed in the rain,
Engulfed in slow emitting pain,
As a man every thought I fought, Your today – yesterday they wrote, The tombstone lined – someone’s hope, One more soldier bite the dust and another rode, Country man plundered for your growth; Today when you rest in peace, Unrest in the street! Your kind – different breed; How do you free freedom? Freedom redefined – surging storm; Hurricane, typhoon – this place has grown.
Write me off! Ride the storm, Collective hallucinations making society strong; Thorn in the throne, Few rights and many wrong, This is where we belong; The Child growing and is you young! Is this is the end of a feebly written song?
