I long for a world
where gardens are standard
and people's place
isn't determined by race.
Where justice is truthful
and our lobbies aren't pandered
and the earth isn't dying
because how hard I'm trying
to survive in this nation
we've built from those slandered
isn't natural or free.
They have the control key,
the whole panel at hand.
And they aren't giving us answers,
just the lies that they feed us
so we don't stop and discuss
what is happening in our reality.
We've turned into helpless bystanders
in our own country.
There's only 1% gentry
and the rest of us
all wave this same banner
of the poor and the choiceless.
There isn't much left to resist
without getting shot or landing
in a prison. We're angered!
And by every right, we should be
until every bogus decree
that never served the "we" that
should've been protected as standard
is torn from the suits
and we're given back our roots.
YOU ARE READING
Ghostwriter
PoetryLiving with mental illness can oftentimes trap one within the inner maze of their mind. In that place, dreams, fears, wishes, and regrets all compile together to create a new world far from the one we physically exist in. At times, it becomes easy t...
