weakness in the mold

Another dollar 

Another day 

All our lives 

Were made from clay 

Two bare hands 

Molding hearts 

Not to fight 

But to beat 

Now here we are 

Fighting in the street 

What he knew 

Would come of this 

We do not know 

The hatred 

Is falling down like snow 

We were suppose to be equal 

Suppose to be free 

 If our lives are threatened 

We should fight like a tree 

Caught in the wind 

With no end in sight 

Keeping our leaves 

Tucked to our side 

For if they fall

The seasons change

And this life that we live in

Will just stay the same

Reviews

[Meraki]

Hmm.. some feelings just can't be described. I'm having one of those feelings.