The voice of my past I can still hear it
the old myth we’ll all die. I started to fear it
as I saw the end of life and how close I was near it
no nothing in this world can lift my spirit

How can I tell this man that prestige’s a lie
leaders giving orders and we must comply
no matter what wrong we see come buy
and we use patriatism as our alliby

Boldness on the microsoft of my life can’t type
I never knew I would admit my pops was right
ain’t no point in standing and putting up a fight
when at the end of it all what’s wrong was light

I close my eyes hard in attempt to hide my tears
just for you to see em’ crawl down and years
have left me on the stage with no volunteers
and these circus acts becomes man common fears

One in which we all have a roll
stride down to elections take a poll
of the next man in line to take control
and we still weep for a heartless soul

This poem was written/submitted by Ahlam.