Conflict Place
youth water war their bodies strained, as you walk through a door,
no organ or funeral tour, just boom a little more, shaking,
down falls the door,
bombs away like droplets of nothing they pierce the day,
but futures mistrusting and the present be any but a Just thing,
only in moments to be judging, my cups over running, with passion,
but they gunning, and life keeps getting hung and cashed in,
look at their faces the kids scared then they become hatred,
so to conflict in these streets, my soul, this whole globe,
peace you are apart of the fold.
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