It doesn't matter that I'm just a shadow enveloped by a flesh and bones shell
A voice that lashed out at god for everything wrong in the word, like a radical seizing the moment, his chance to rebel
Blaming entities for the results of choices we made
Selfish, thinking others are at fault when the responsibility was ours to take
Never accepting our part in anything when there's nothing to gain
A transmutable material that refuses to change
The lies of politicians and religious lackeys that anathematize creativity
Living in their decadence made possible by propaganda and white nativity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem