This was poem was brought on, after some rethink and some wider looking from this blog by James; https://www.manic-expression.com/stop-the-hate-black-lives-matter/, take what you will from it, for it is only my thoughts. Feel free to agree or disagree. Enjoy the read.
Withering trust,
dying faith,
lost hope,
and just unlucky chances,
is that what it has come to now,
just losing everything,
nothing else to give,
anymore,
what is left,
if there is no signs of getting,
being selfish is common,
a sense to be noticed,
ego boasting at times,
blinding in choices,
but we all want them anyway,
because it feels nice,
of being wanted,
and the need to help,
yet after a while,
the ego dies,
when seeing that’s all a ploy,
a plan that wasn’t made for just one to follow,
what lies that left behind,
with no shame in hiding,
just there because,
and nothing else,
oh damn it all then,
to hell with this,
if to give,
just to give,
slave away to the give,
and really get nothing back out of it,
well to hell to it all,
if no equal is found here,
why should one be fair,
in this one-sided love,
that makes the shiftiest fictions,
forth bring a better fable of upon a good time,
to a happily ever after,
fuck it all,
burn it all,
if there is no seeing eye to eye,
what is the point,
the abuse can only last so long,
before the will of peace,
breaks,
from just a banner,
becomes a ticking time bomb,
wake the fuck up world,
see things as they are now,
we are not moving forward,
if a fellow human falls,
another remain silences to stay alive,
and the problem walks away,
seeing the false problem is long gone,
how many will we lose,
on the give,
to the give,
the whips to the back deepen,
to where they are tattoos,
of a reminder,
no one changes,
mindsets,
come few and distance,
the one thing that has change,
in form,
is whip morphs to a gun,
underline with a title,
that has also changed,
and sadly abused,
in the give,
and to never take,
the message has change,
confusingly so,
knowing the ups and downs,
have switch,
the heroes are the bad guys,
and the bad people are those,
who were there at the wrong time,
and place,
safe in their home,
or just taking a walk,
everything has withered,
and for some reason,
questions to why this is,
are just as painful,
to those damnation of answers given,
to the taken inquiries,
our home is falling apart,
and the only thing getting done,
is the long list of how to stall,
until every being has found their place,
or in the ground,
and to be honest to this unsaid plan . . .
we are fucked,
make a change,
or die trying . . .
or we are just fucked,
for our mistakes,
yes ours,
no one is getting out this,
so don’t even try to run . . .
we are fucked,
for the dumbest reason,
enjoy world,
saying sorry can’t save you now.
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