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Writer's pictureSaffyWhite

Songs Of The City.

The Jungle.

Thick trunks of concrete grey bark

these buildings hide the sun like trees

they call it the concrete jungle

they try to put us at ease.


As though vultures circle above prey

helicopters follow us where they please

these buildings offer no protection

but they try to put you at ease.


You have to fight your way up, no democracy

left on the ground you will freeze

they call this the concrete jungle

they turn a blind eye with ease.


This jungle is a fight

lone wolves get left behind

survival of the fittest, fight for your life

to our struggles they are blind.


Our War.

You judge yet you do not feel

you only see it on the TV, 'it is not real'

these feelings you will never know

with a silver spoon in your mouth you did grow

we were handed plastic forks and knives

you do not know how to fight for your lives.


We now do plead for understanding

understand how we must survive

for this life is violently demanding

we beg you to know we must fight to be alive.


Can you please help them?

we do not want your pity

just help to break the divide in your city

and abolish the issues from which this life does stem.


He was brought up for this war

he knew of violence before he was off the floor

no escape and no guiding hand

except for the ones who gave the commands.


They beg for an escape from their life

they want their children to never need to carry a knife.


F*ck Your "Smile".

Do not tell me to "smile"

and do not stare in horror as I demand

"give me something to smile about"

I know you are not used to not being in command.


But here we do not sit pretty

I will not contort my face for your pleasure

I walk with a face of purpose

a purpose more than to be your "treasure".


Do not tell me I look "prettier when I smile"

I will only grimace more

as I know I am beautiful with a smile

but just as beautiful as before.


You see, I do not walk in a happy delusion

too many thoughts rush through my mind

too much potential for growth

I do not smile as I must grind.



So do not tell me to "smile"

I look just as strong without

do not be offended to learn

I am the one who gives me something to smile about.


Home.

She smiled when it happened

a sense of comfort from familiar pain,

the hole in her chest others would pity

for her is home and she blames tears on the rain.


Yet she herself walked unsure

wiping away droplets which fought on her cheek

you will never know if they are salty from tears or sea air

you will never know if she is weak.


Although unsure, she is not unsteady

as her feet pound the sinking ground

she is used to not feeling in control

she does not feel apart of what is around.


You can watch as she rushes home

the emptiness of privacy will bring relief

but by 'home' I mean she will crawl inside herself

into the aching hole burnt by grief.


And in this hole she may stay

for this familiar pain does comfort her

as to her this hole feels like home

and in its pit of darkness, the outside will blur.


Floating.

Although I see clearly, everything is grey

although I do not understand their words

their voices chirp at me like little birds

only the flashing lights lead the way.


For I do not feel my legs move

nor do I remember getting home

I scare myself with how empty I roam

it is as though from myself, myself does remove.


Your Chains.

For you normal has been denied

yet for me, comfort has been sought

longing for your life has filled up my world

but these constraints I never gave a second thought.

For you these chains have been forced

mine are grey with age

what I call my life

you now call a cage.

Fighting for your life back

I can not seem to relate

as being stripped from me

from us, this has lifted a weight.

Temporarily forced into my normal you squirm

you never noticed how I was so still

come together to free yourself

but I have been trapped in this life from a different ill.




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