Troubled times.
I fill my head with landmines,
to stop the pain
from drowning me in a sea of doubt.
Troubled times.
Inciting violence on the streets,
in-fighting in opposition seats.
These seeds will soon grow
into a forest we can't
see our way through.
Troubled times,
I expose myself to pain,
electricity coursing in the pouring rain,
to stop the images from shocking me.
Our shouts mean nothing
to deaf ears, they don't see signs.
They don't notice that
we've walked this road a thousand times,
repeating again, the same old tired lines.
Troubles times.
So many tears cried, why?
When we have the masses shouting, why?
What have you got to hide?
Do you enjoy inflicting pain,
making the sky rain with fire again and again.
This is not justice. This is not just.
Is this what you want to tell your kids?
What you did, the blood spilt,
the innocent lives you undid.
In troubled times.
Pull your history books out.
uncover your ears,
the drums are starting to pound.
I've seen this all play out over so many pages.
Across the ages. We used to listen to sages,
now we just blot out the sounds.
Well soon the echoes will be felt and not heard.
Deep inside we will die a little,
each life lost will hurt until
we are nothing but glass shards
cracked and brittle.
Troubled times.
Humanity should shine,
so why does it feel so dull, grim, and unkind.
Why do men have their fingers
on triggers so often, instead of sitting
in conversation.
It hurts. To see so much pain
and to know that this is just another
history book beginning. Reality is thinning
Blending, creating a new tomorrow,
and if we don't listen,
there will be many more stormy days to follow.
Thanks for reading
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