Another poem on the spot, I believe this is similar to freestyling. If Oni Pichu is the Michaelangelo of Poetry,consider me a graffiti artist.
Destiny of the Refugee
Why must we run from the castle I helped to stand, bold in it's appearance, and presence doth grand?
Perhaps it is an illusion, and rather boiling in filth, wilting on pressure and community guilt.
You would not understand the love of war, people have in their brains deeply bore.
The leader said, "villanous whores, you dirty our land with your primal roars"
Directed at us, who claim to hold commodity, being the ones who are the spine of this "colony"
We lack vigilance of the eye of the gun, we dare not hold what you hate and you shun.
Therefore we run, and ignore our clause, diligent to our ideals and let violence pause.
That is our destiny: to avoid the ruin, to shallow the pain and null ego bruising.
We will return when the establishment is up, and the people on high chairs are less "stuck-up".
The way we see it, we run a horse race, and no better the worker if he works at better pace.
We all stand, crooked backs and broken hands, we ask for nothing more or less, freedom in demand.
I'll Be Back Soon. Await My Revival!
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