pull the trigger

how am i supposed to feel, when we live in a world where it's a crime to feel?

when i was a little girl, i was happy, i was bold.

i could run with the wind, the air was almost rushing thorugh my blood; 

cooling my veins.

they forgot to tell me that what was to come was a viscous game, 

a sickening game.

blood in the streets, copper in my nose.

the world stinked of polluted air.

murder.

murder.

murder.

he's found not guilty.

freedom did not exist, freedom will not exist.

in the end of times we'll find prosperity,

and we can live on in the name of clarity.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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