Art as Pain Relief- SIRCHS
The high-pitched scream of a noise so loud,
That it is not intended for the targets to
hear the sound. (just disintegrate)
As days go by, my hands are getting weak,
My forehead is always cold and sweaty,
just waiting to eat.
I’m so tired from the last time they
bombed us, and I can’t take it again.
Can anyone hear me? Why does nobody care?
Torn flesh, the smell of Death.
What did my family do to deserve this test?
I’m just a human being, I’m not a
terrorist threat.
Why are you treating me like I don’t
deserve to live?
I’m sorry for the evil people that hurt
you,
And all the messed-up things that they
did.
But now my people are DYING,
And I don’t know what to do.
One piece of bread is not enough, how will
we ever get through?
I don’t believe in hate and terrorism.
My family never did “nothin” to you.
Is it because of my dark skin,
Or that my people speak a different
language than you?
They’re just kids, man, they deserve to
get a chance,
To see a world that will join to heal their
wounds
and circumstance,
War is over if you want it, or so the
peacemakers say.
Hip Hop is for you and
me, just get on the mic and say what you mean,
Hip Hop is for you and for
me, just drop a dope rhyme and try to be free.
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