My Life is a Crime

Innocent as they come
To this world they hold firm
Onto ideals that don’t stand
Sadly its the feeding hand,
that becomes the killing hand.

Blessed beautiful eyes, yet have no vision in sight
Clouded by propaganda, their minds are turned to plunder!
Their value is undermined
Their worth, declines
Their needs, arise
Yet they just seat and whine!
And you call this life prime?

“Children enjoy your youth” they say
But we have nothing to prove
Safe for empty words and promises
And dreams broken in skirmishes
It is not our doing!
But nevertheless we are glooming
Darkened by the our “mis”leaders
And our internal deceivers
That lie about the reality
As they plunge us deeper into insanity,
Poverty, greed and calamity
Mama told me by now I’d be at my prime
But as I look around my vines,
It dawns; my Life is a Crime

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