What's Inside?

In The Middle

in the middle, we were born to believe
that our world is perfect as it is
I go to school just like everyone
that the people on the streets are nothing but lazy freeloaders, son

In the middle, everything was fine
My parents go to work, in school is where i study
We neither dull nor shine
In this perfect society
Or at least that's what we're raised to think

In the middle, means there is a high and a low
low means you're barely even human to all
You have no rights better starve
Thrown stick and stones to find a job
Find a place to have a home but how can they find a home if they're treated like a clod?!

But in their minds, they're ones to blame
That they deserve the suffer and shame
The minds of the highs up in utopia
Being served in a silver platter
Their so called bought nirvana
And they're the ones who scream, "we could make this world better!"

They donate here and there
Giving clothes and foods, limited share
Only to last a week or two
Then back to hungry cold skin bare.

Donate, because of the goodness of your heart?
Or maybe, just another illusion that the world isn't tearing each other apart

In the middle, hell, why does that statement exist?!
With the middle there are highs and lows
As if people are simply ladders where we all fight for the top, it shows
How we brainwashed ourselves to think like this
When it shouldn't even exist

You don't have to call someone rich or poor
Or somewhere in the middle
If so that we can be sure
That in this current system we correct what is false,
A bright light to the truth,
A true equality for all.