War Child: Get ready


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My eyes are burning from ash and dust. Soul tired. My heart bruised, broken, and crushed.

I screamed out for someone to stop and make it better. Wrote a letter to the president and he just said, whatever.

They watched me lose my life, down to the very last breath. Ideas and bullet points bounce off armored black vests.

Took my home left me alone, a cold drone with shattered bones. Too late for the apologies sent from broken cell phones.

Teleprompter decisions form suited opinions. Terrorism scratching thick skin bringing attention to their actions. Innocent paying for their infractions.

We stick out our noses smelling roses of those who oppose us. Promising our boots won’t touch their land. The wrong regime getting slapped hands…I don’t understand.

War torn bodies walking streets paved with hate – it’s too late. Keep your state, state of mind, and your self polluted fate.

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