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Familial Feelings

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Oh darfur, iraq, phillipines, and more

Everywhere my siblings, suffering, torn

I too am crying, up in oregon

In the forest, the hills, the valleys, always

 

I know of you, I pain for you,

I honor your sacrifice

I watch the videos and cry

My eyes are never dry

 

This one sibling who is with you in pain

That one em pathetic, pathetic I remain

 

Oh god, you said, it¹s a nice ride, we¹ll learn

But you never said we¹ll cry the whole ride

You never mentioned huge rising tide

War, hate, misunderstanding, mud slide

 

You never said you wouldn¹t come along

You never said ours would be a sad song

Never warned us not to go, or I can¹t remember it

Never said we¹d last lifetimes here, oh shit

 

Now me and my siblings, dieing in this flesh

Which is drowned blown and beaten

Burned torn and eaten

Some garden of eden

 

Amuzing knowledge, like anagrams

Keep me amused, while I delete spam

Spam, hmm, the struggle to survive

Give it up fellas, we aint staying alive

 

I¹m so sorry my poem is so down and out

I have a hard time being happy these days

Since I love awareness, Aware I am

Of the blown legs and tears,

Children stripped of their years

The mothers tears

Bullets flying

Father crying

Media lieing

All of us trying

Living and dieing

 

Oh my siblings, up and down with you I go,

Another time to show

We¹ll show up again, I¹m trying to make a stand

Til they bring us home, wherever that is

 

You big men who can help, I love you so much

You do things that alleviate, expediate and ameliorate

Please meet and talk, and make a plan,

Stop the bloodshed, we have other colors than red

 

I¹d like to see yellow

If it¹s not too much trouble

Hope and happiness

An end to this warringness

 

I want to like my Muslim brothers

And sisters who I cannot see,

under Burka, worka, lurka

If you want it, fine, but hug me

 

I do not care for Mohamed

But it¹s not my business, I don¹t live in sand

Us forest bunnies were never camels

And we don¹t belong in their face, or on their backs

 

Blankets and crutches,

Such unbearable loss,

But withdrawal pain,

Tween the two, it¹s a toss

 

For now we have to settle

Boiling souls in a kettle

Making blades to kill

Who are our siblings still

 

Hold a little black child in your arms

Watch him die of starvation

The world will paint our eulogy with oil

Place shame on our nation

 

200 years later, a prime minster will say

I¹m sorry we let 2 mil of you die

But not a tear in his eye

With hate ok, we needn¹t wonder why

 

Ignore me, I¹m just attached

To happiness, but that¹s not the plan

The plan seems to be, to rise above

But I¹m sick of war, release the dove

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