This world, is it mine to worry about?
This world, is it mine to worry about? Bombs inandout of Iraq. Gaza, the strip and Israel. The fact that I still can't spell Isreal right. Nigeria, 2014, the religious strife, the political pandemonium, 2015 hysteria, the girls yanked from their mothers' dry breasts, still encamped in houses they call not theirs. Ferguson, we still can't remove racial equation from the situation and realize how wrong shooting an unarmed, surrendered kid is. What now?
Another one dead, by stones, sticks, hands, whatever mechanism, descending in vigorous motion. Self made jury and judge, mass hysteria. The murders laid at the doors of religion, Christianity. The girl hung in the market square for honor-we've raped all over again, her intestines out in the street. Honor, never about hiding, but opening the 'sins' for the world to see. Girls, don't walk the street at night, dark, lurking evil. Don't friendzone the one you're not interested in. Don't wear minis, not even lipstick. Never mind, my mother's generation wore tiny minis - yet, never slutshamed - their skirts were made of Aso Oke. Your's will be made from lace, silk, wool, cotton. You're on your own. Period/
Another one dead, by stones, sticks, hands, whatever mechanism, descending in vigorous motion. Self made jury and judge, mass hysteria. The murders laid at the doors of religion, Christianity. The girl hung in the market square for honor-we've raped all over again, her intestines out in the street. Honor, never about hiding, but opening the 'sins' for the world to see. Girls, don't walk the street at night, dark, lurking evil. Don't friendzone the one you're not interested in. Don't wear minis, not even lipstick. Never mind, my mother's generation wore tiny minis - yet, never slutshamed - their skirts were made of Aso Oke. Your's will be made from lace, silk, wool, cotton. You're on your own. Period/
Games of Thrones, the excitement for Cersai's naked walk through the streets, into the church. We don't get shame, do we? Uproar at a woman breastfeeding her baby, the sexualization of it, stripping away the intimacy and reverence of the moment. The "it's not, if it's is" of rape, a word we scurry under Graphene shields and draw our swords when it's uttered. Captain America and Hulk, just SMASH! The unfunny jokes, yet the laughs that follow. The ones who don't get it. Ones who listen, yet still justify it, not by blood. Yes, We All!
Each night, another one. The world, at its darkest, still pushes on its mission to find its darkest hour. Love, Freedom, Equality, hahahahaha. Easy to walk away, a notion my being can't understand\
Each night, another one. The world, at its darkest, still pushes on its mission to find its darkest hour. Love, Freedom, Equality, hahahahaha. Easy to walk away, a notion my being can't understand\
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