Shot for hope,
Lived freedom,
People don't understand.
They say things,
And say another.
Somehow they don't care.
They just think it's right to be treated like this,
As if it's fair,
As if we need to protect ourselves,
As we if we looked for it.
I look at you,
You're laughing,
As if something was meant to be funny,
As if this was funny.
This isn't funny.
You beating me up,
My blood soaked into my clothes,
My tears streaming down.
Is that what's funny to you?
My pain,
Is it that funny?
Why doesn't anybody stop it?
Do they also enjoy it?
Or are they trying to find the puzzle,
That I'm trying to find?