Perpetual glances of stale-framed anomalies,
Encroaching on pathways of free-willed soliloquies,
The suns burns bright -
Red, dead, malnourished, not fed,
Empty heads where the bullet holes once bled,
Into the pathways and underpasses of a society misled,
MTA buses used as prisons,
Incarcerating the sardines of this land’s profit,
Makeshift bridges transgress sidewalks paved in immigrants’ blood,
Sunsets mark times of danger as kids sleep tight in distress,
Captain America squeezed tight in midnight instances of abuse and unrest,
Tears shed over crucifixes of blood-drenched sanctity and bliss,
Candles lit with crosses acting as compasses in a direction toward hate,
Looming forward like dark mystified shadows to an unknown dissembled fate,
Guillotines whispering clear messages of what capital punishment creates,
Almost like heinous skyscrapers where a man named J.Crew is said to propagate,
Create, ovulate, turn the fate – the dues are paid,
Our countries misfortune in time will evade,
All citizens with messages wrapped like fortune cookies enslaved –
Yet not as free to whisper words of truth against the grain,
While reaping new dreams –
Pure thoughts and sterility,
They test the numbers with upright tranquility,
Wash the dirt off the hands of your vile transgressions,
Admire the sun –
Tilted on an un-even axis of class corruption,
Doves, snug, fly to their homes,
Only to find their land has been bought and sold,
Tierra y libertad as the sunset rises,
Another day in the midst of life and all it surmises