Childhood

The time is spent in desperation,

Every breath is of hope.

Your every step, a contradiction,

At the end of your rope.

The ivory tower stands up high,

The icy hearted sink low.

Victims of the past, doing hard time

Burdened with more pain to tow.

Their words are just hypocritical,

Conspiracy stings my ears.

My mind runs a million miles more,

Away from what I hear.

Through wastelands of blank indecision,

The paranoia flies.

Everyone has will to give up, yet;

They'll keep sick passions live

Fault is of the bourgeoisie; for this

Radioactive reign;

A missionary fleet of poisons,

Drinking Molotov shame.

Your heart is a ticking time bomb,

Your soul cries a sullen cry;

In the district of contemplation,

In the city of kind lies.

This displacement is unsettling

The battle, gone on too long

The screams of the silent; deafening

Protesting the war that's on