Broken

Broken

Screaming at the top of our voices
Our voices couldn’t be heard; We seem voiceless
Going about, proud of the guns they hold
What’s left now?, where else can we go?

I had a dream that the world changed
For a minute there was no pain
Instead of sermons from the military and militants
I hear laughter on the streets again

Then I woke up to see the world
A lot of pain from the oil spills
How many kids has these wars killed?
How many families can afford their bills?

I wish I could let the world know;
It’s okay to let the pain show
And even though time seems bad;
It always rains before the rainbow

In our country money and ink is power
in the world money controls everything we believe in.
I can see we are in our darkest hour
The Government are just as crooked as the police

I spend the weekend catching up news;
News like hundreds of girls been adopted
Now we no longer hear the news
Because the Tv stations rather gossip about a famous persons tussle for power
or just how he broke the rules
I am so confused

Tell me; Is our lives worth less all the fuss?
I think we need a little more

Never wear your heart on your sleeves
it doesn’t go with suits
They are always looking and playing on the brighter side
so, they can’t see those dark gutters.

If it’s the truth that I am speaking
Then you must be my extension
Let us march and make our voices heard
I think we just need a little more love.



2 thoughts on “Broken” by sultan (@Sultan)

  1. Vincent de Paul (@vincentdepaul)

    Nice poem, nice message; but I feel that choice of some words is wrong. ‘Sermons’ for instance. Military/militants don’t give sermons, they have campaigns.

Leave a Reply