Guest guest Posted December 5, 2006 Report Share Posted December 5, 2006 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 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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