From the streets of chi town,
To the corners of our town.
Busy people walk around
Through the valleys of no town.
Deceiving it can be but overruling it may seem.
It only seems to reach what no one can achieve.
But what is it that we truly foresee?
Is it the never ending pain that leeches the soul?
No! It’s the mind that is willing to play tricks.
If we only knew the risk that we should not take.
Trespassers, hoodlums we are called, consuming
It must be: sniffing cocaine is just normal by all means.
Raining bombs deploy into the dirty corners of the land,
Shooting people for the religion they uphold is
Not committing crime. Nevertheless, we are successors
Of peace, justice, and liberation to those around.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem