Black-Stained Poem by Waseem Sherif

I see people in a flock
A gathering for free minds
Yet I still see the chains
That binds them
To mentality of short sight
I feel so useless myself
A fire burns when I open my eyes
Though cynical is my nature
I see the demons
Behind the curtain of lies
Too much pain
This land has suffered
Truly ashamed, I am
For hope is no quality of mine
I want to see light
At the end of tunnel
But the tunnel
Is what I can't find
So I sit here and wander
The black-stained paper
I choose to be oblivious
For I am what I am
Nothing else matters

© 2016