Painted Man

Can I at least be free to live?
If nothing else, can I still breathe?
What more do you need to believe
That we’re the same beneath the skin?

I’ve shed these tears for years unending
Stood beneath your boots unbending
Raise my head? You’re apprehending
Humbled yet you’re condescending

We are the same there’s no pretending
I am you yet you’re contending
Nothing’s broken but you’re mending
Is this plague not ever ending?
Here at home its still the same
Misused power, displaced blame
Weak are dying, strong are spending
Paper is now metal-bending

Slowly humans turn to numbers
Shown on screens, fictitious covers?
Children shot dead in the streets
Churches filled with bloody seats?


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