A city of ghosts
Poverty dripping from buildings…
With bordered windows, silent streets, and meandering men.

A desperation for change – for newnesss –
The rich have diserted
Fled for suburbs, fled for gates & locks
The rest have stayed… have stayed…

And yet.

Buried in the rubble
Beating a baptismal challenge for change.

A heart that still gives
To strangers, complainers, and oppressors
A sweetness so genuine & sincere…
My heart pounds in awe

A fight for revolution,
For reform,
For real-ution

I saw this amongst all the struggle,
Creative ideas to a complex problem,
Their attempt to solve them.

I can’t sit back and just watch

I won’t sit here and not talk.

We are all the same –
No class. No race. Just a struggle…

To be heard.

Extra extra this aint getting any betta.
So speak up. Step up. Don’t let them tell you to shut the fuck up.

Realise this system is not working
That we all need more
Keep fighting from your core

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