While just a simple poem it may seem
The words flow out of the mouth into the rivers and streams
Of the nations by our side
And the ones that we abide
Although we try to cut out meaningless words
Instead we cut out the dreams we've heard
Our inspirations don't inspire
We try to hold out, but the time is dire
We can't keep wasting already wasted space
We have to step up; accept our fate
The little things that become our dreams
Become our obsessions and existing aggressions
We hold out hope in the background
While meanwhile people ahead choose not to back down
We choose to exist only when there's a fist
In the means of our existence
We live for light but there's still the dark
That we choose not to like its a waste of our time, right?
We rest our heads
And go to bed
Only when the dark fades in
We claim that there is such beauty
In the night
Yet we continue to shut our eyes
Of the sight
While the idea is tempting
We're well resisting
And this simple accusation
Is a means of my frustration
I am still in concentration
Of my newest destination
Although I think I speak for everyone
When I say the job's only halfway done