In the heat of the moment we were heroes.
Our blood rushing through our veins
Faster than they ever did.
This freedom we sought
Was very close
We could feel it.
Every day with a little more ounce of hope
We'd rush out,
Hungry or tired
Pained or bruised
Sleep depraved or fired
Shot at or killed.
It was going to be
All or nothing
Even the tyrant heads,
Even them could see it.
As our strength doubled
Their plans tripled
Waiting for the perfect day
Not number 7
Number 11
The perfect day for terror.
Again we went
Questioning, demanding
Swearing on the dead
Giving our lives
Just like every other day
Because freedom comes
When you push a lot.
11th time, 21st day
Gun fire opens
Its raining bullets
As a little drop forms an ocean
A little bullet forms a blood pool.
Weeks go by
With little strength we try
But a heavy heart
Moves like a snail.
Today we are back
Nay, worse. We smile
As a way to hide our defeat,
To forget our oaths
To cover our shame.
Weeks have gone by
Bloods still cry
Each heart is still faint
We have gone again
Like our fathers once did
The way of retreat
Maybe cowardice
In days to come
We'd tell the story
Of how at some point
We almost had
A rude awakening
A real independence
Today a joke was going round the country and I just remembered how weeks back every youth was ready to give themselves for a better nation to manifest. I don't know when or if we'd ever rise again but I had to pour out my pains here.
Love 💘 ya fam
YOU ARE READING
Mirror Reflection
PoetryThis started ou as a book of poetry but now its just a book where emotions, random thoughts and views are being penned down. If any resonate with you, I hope it helps. Toodles
