99 (I Cry)

99 (I Cry)

They say this is for freedom.
Yet they kill for peace, they hate for love
Fill our lives with lies,
So we now despise, everything, including the truth
Though we barely recognize what it is,
We no longer dare to live. So instead we hide,
Behind screens, online, out of sight,
We intellectually verbalize premature ejaculation
How can this be pro-creation?
When we abortion everything, including our dreams.

Somebody please tell me what it means,
When it seems you’re the last one, who really cares.
So many hollow eyes that stare back at you,
Souls drifting into the sea, sinking in the depth.
I could dare to give my next breath,
If it would be the seed that would grow the tree of life
So we could live again. I cannot make that sacrifice.
I am not Christ. I cannot Atlas this world,
Onto my shoulders when finger tips on revolvers are
The decision makers, when the lease of life is held upon a holster,
And fate is decided by the distance between the hand to the hip.
The best I can do is cry.

So I cry.
For the 99 times whips cracked on backs, and the rubber bullets,
Triggers and the 99 fingers that pull it,
For the 99 families that mourn with every sunrise
And the 99 women just raped in an eastern Congo village,
The blood and oil spillage.
The 99 miles of coastline destroyed by nuclear waste,
For the 99 times we were promised a change that never came,
I cry. These tears are my cocoon, and every 99 days,
I am reborn, like a neophyte,
Trying to find the balance between the heavy and the light,
And though this Neo fights, against the heavy, still,
The weight weighs down on me, so I wait for a way to weigh these ways,
So I can Wei-Wu-Wei philosophically,
Back to wear I need to be, into the ether,
Because this world isn’t mine,
I barely recognize what it’s become,
And what will I do when that day comes
When my first born son,
Will look at me and say
"Dad, what happened to humanity?"
With my nervous hands and trembling tongue,
Before my heart finds its feet,
And jumps out of my chest,
I’ll put down my cape,
And remove the superman complex
That seems to come with fatherhood,
Then I can only hold my breath,
And hope to find the words
That will deflect the pain that he will feel
When he realizes
That this world was stolen from him too,
After all what can I say?

{liberatormagazine.com exclusive feature}
by JJ Bola (London, England:UK)

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