Life

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My name is Jesus and I'm not afraid to say

That my uncle was gay and he got taken away

Taken away by mankind itself and drowned in misery

Drowned in credit card debts and social rejection

Drowned in sadness and the loss of his three sons

Three men who never got to meet their father

This is a cry for help

 

Every morning I wake up to the same sounds of bullets flying

The same angry men we call our leaders screaming

And those same mothers who try to protect their childs running

But running from the truth and running from the one place we call Planet Earth

Because every now and then she may drink herself to sleep just to escape

Escape from a world that only pushes her children to turn into soldiers

Soldiers who harvest fear and anger and sadness into themselves as they evolve

This is a cry for help

 

And I feel upset and rather sad accepting this reality

And posting this poem out so someone could hear me

I accept my realities and the fact that I am victim

Victim of this harvested hatred that man has so coldly swallowed

But why if it's not my fault? Why should we suffer as a family?

It's not our problem, we didn't start this war

We are brothers, sisters, cousins, fathers and mothers

All fighting for the same cause and the same right to call and claim something ours

Why must we wake up every morning to the sound of flying bullets?

Why must we wake up every morning to the sound of cries and screams?

This is a cry for help

 

Why must I not sleep every night thinking of the woman who gave birth to me?

Thinking of how the rich wage war and it's the poor who die trying

Trying to save themselves from disaster and running for a chance

A chance to breathe and be free from mankind's hard clutch

We are all fighting for the same purpose

 

This is a cry for help.

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