How i wish this faceless creature,
Hibernating in nature wasn't me,
I mean it should be some other human,
Cause life has just pushed me out of this world.
...
We write with fire on trembling page,
Ink born of sorrow, voice of rage.
No need for fists when words ignite—
Our verses march, our stanzas fight,
...
They cried into soil no one blessed,
Their names erased, their truth suppressed.
But still, their tears refused to drown—
they sank like roots beneath the ground.
...
Dear Mr. President, can you hear! ?
The streets are loud, the voices clear.
Not from the halls where power sits, But from the cracks, the slums, the pits.
...
We did not bring swords—
we brought signs.
We did not bring fire—
but they lit one in our minds.
...
We shouted loud in crowded streets,
Where broken truths and anger meet.
With hands up high and eyes like flame,
We carried more than just a name.
...
The cost of freedom,
was me.
The parts I gave away to fit,
The silence I wore to keep the peace,
...
This is not a drill.
Not a test of the heart,
not practice for grief.
The sirens are real,
...
A day shall come
The day the spitting pen holder won't hold it no more
Due to the feeble nature of my arms
As they tremble and can't be still like the ocean waters
...
Dear mama salone
End of year is here
Seems an eon here
Much's passed under
...