Theres an unspoken grief of watching murder from a screen. Bodies buried under rubble on the land that the settlers will seize. Sirens swirling with the screams, mothers running frantic in the streets, sickened with anxiety and griefto see their little one be murdered by police. We talk about dignity and peacebut oppressor says there’s pressure on their pocketbook to start and to fund another siegeWe’re happy to repeatwe absolutely cannot cease, FIRE! Here’s another hospital and school FIREHere’s a kid that threw a couple rocks cause he got a little bold after those White phosphorus showersTo me it’s very obvious who the terrorist isThe ones with the guns who come to take with nothing to giveWho lie to themselves, then lie to the worldWho talk about a vengeful god or burning in hell If you’re not like them wanna save some souls from a miserable eternity that they themselves enact on Earth in perpetuity with no accountability Continue getting wealthy off the backs of the majorityThey’ll call us the minorityIgnore all of the povertyAnd tell us that there’s never any money for necessitiesbut there’s money for wars And apparently moreAccording to the presidentthere could be more in store! I love to know that all the income I’ve been working for is directly funding genocides and proxy wars And that they’re proud of it.But I guess we are inside of it,The belly of the beast that keeps the peace with a violent silence I wonder what would happen if we redirected time and we took the guns out the hands of those whose looked like mine and took the greed out the hearts of those who compromised their people and their souls to enable their genocideIf the fighting was fairWould we still be here or would there maybe have been another thereIf they didn’t burn books,If they didn’t re-educate the children they tookIf they didn’t enjoy watching the bloodshed and look so suspiciously psyched at the sight of the dead Would we be living in utopia instead? Man I wanna believe it.In my lifetime I’d love to see itFor the children who need itFor the mothers who’re grieving For the men we don’t talk about who really die for their freedom (cont.)