They tell me to pay attention and live in the parameters of the system, walk the street and CCTV has me on close observation, they say its for my protection and not because I am a lowly citizen that requires constant supervision.
Blessed with a little education and deep thinking, I read the fine print on government prescription, so when you ask me to swallow that medication called law, eroding my birth attained freedom; I am ready to go to war.
They say the youth are unruly, but who are you to speak, when every word you verbalize is laced with lies, I am rebellious, to understand take a look into my eyes, the young respond and react, a smaller scale of the governmental acts, rob and steal, trained cubs of the wolf pack.
They ask why I write, its simple as writing what I feel, what my eyes see as I walk through life is real, as real as the earth that touches my heels, the heaviness is due to the darkness I try to wash away and peel.
Through this gift of writing my heart and my mind stay in touch, as soon as I see that white sheet of paper these words beginning to rush, the thoughts multiple, some times I feel like my head is about to bust.
Pain I feel seeing children as old as my three boys, hunger turning them stiff, weakened to the point that they cant even shift, the only movement is in their eyes, dry from everyday tears, starvation and famine all they’ve known today and the yester years.
For so many third world children today is a repeat of yesterday, and no hope for those that came after, I ask those who feel what I feel, what constitutes the answer, please tell me, have we all caught the capitalist cancer.
I sleep laboured and awake to the smell of ammunition, every morning over whelming my sense of communication, wondering how mankind can spend billions on destruction, is capitalist contribution only to contest on plunder, and the innocent lives considered lambs put to the slaughter.
So every other morning the letter starts, dear Mr. Cameron and Mr. Obama your governments contribute half of the world’s horror, imagine if you were the ones holding on to survival, living in poverty and sorrow, in the conditions you create would you be able to hold on and hope for a better tomorrow.
In blind or greed driven ignorance the brainless follow, the only problem is that you forget that once the time is up from tomorrow a second further you will be unable to borrow, if these words ever reach you I hope they add to your morality, from where I stand it is empty and absolutely hollow.
Hamza egal © copyright 2010 all rights reserved.