Tear stricken faces with stomachs grumbling but full of hatred
Fed daily visions of war that govern their days
Heat that awaken bloody brawls and dark sunshine rays
On weapons with blood tainted bullets and screaming barrels blow
Crying louder than the sounds of bombs that leave nothing behind to show
Houses destroyed
Lives dismantled
Children that learn violence before virtue they must earn
Bred before born
Giving up suspects for a cold can of Pepsi
Soldiers filled with fury to kill but what of me?
I am your country that lacks enough reason to be
I am your leader that tortures you of ideas to be free
Yet I never allow these breaths to breathe
I am your wife that cries silently as I am left alone to care for our little three
I am your mother that wanted you to finish your college degree
I am your soul that was lost as you crossed overseas
I am you that questions your motives and now needs to rescue me
"This passion, this burn, this fire... it will consume me eventually."
Me, myself, & my mic
"My touch sets the pace as I lace my fingers around it's thin waist, and my voice sends static music that hypnotizes you without a choice, and my words? Oh, my words. They are the potency behind my sweet lips poetic bite. Just me, myself, & my mic.
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