At the Opened Door of the Weekday

At the opened door of the weekday The throat of the gate is choked With the clamour of the cliché of Aluta continua! The little drop of hope For the poor to breath on Is now for the rich to tope We might be covered Like a stone in the grass Yet still, we shall rise Like sunlight from the sea. Education is a right Not a privilege Why always the poor with austerity? Why always the lower being suffocated? Despite we are all the green and white. The sun's protested for the pain Even the cloud's lamented Are we not the same? Outside the board You show your responsibility But those under suffer a lot. Why the hard decision on us? Why extorting the little we could use For the survival of our dinner dine? Why forcing our future out of us? Why so cruel That you see everyone in your shoes? The street has no choice, Many talents will drop as your desire We struggle to live! We are students, Not cash cows! We shall not be broken! Our flag will always fly on sky! Our song will always be sung! Is either you grant our wish Or the world is shut! The poor must breath! And Aluta will not be ceased To continue!