Cycle


We all are trapped in this constant rotation of thoughts of this
world and its flowing temptations.
We all subscribe to the thought of one nation, and yet we divide
with the heart of discrimination.
It confuses me. I won't tell a lie.
We all lay claim to the trail that we're blazing, and yet we can't
see where our blind eyes are gazing.
We all admit that the world is so crazy, and yet we are content with
being peacefully lazy.
I don't know. Maybe there's time.
There once existed a man who had a dream and died.
That wanted us to flow together like the streams and tides.
But we are divided by races and faces.
Though we shed blood in the same place and graces.
It troubles me. I can't sleep at night.
So if the roles were reversed and the white man bore chains, would
the black man not hang and form a nation of gain?
Where her borders are opened and not subjected to pain?
Where those who find hope are not pre-cursed to the dope?
Where the stereotypes fade and the mind can be persuade?
Or am I just cursed with this constant rotation of mere thoughts
and dreams that hurt me worse than damnation?
No matter the nation, its affliction of self serving shall
lead to division.

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