Unhinged debauchery
Of the human condition,
Spills like smoke from a factory
Built on superstition.

The desolation of already dislocated
Dreams filled with isolation
Shattered glass futures, fated
To rot beneath a nation's damnation.

The contortion of society’s abortion,
Twisting in alleys with no recourse
Abandoned on streets, a public distortion,
A wound uncleaned at the moral source.

Brought on by human sadness and neglect,
By hunger in hearts no hand could detect.
Apathy rots where compassion once bled,
Hope chokes on prayers the rich never said.

The cold, callous nature of a quick death,
No last rites, no roses, no final breath.
Just a statistic scratched in concrete dust,
A body discarded by a system unjust.

The American dream is a nightmare now
And I’m running, running, don't ask how.
Each step I take, a scream held tight,
Fleeing daylight that burns like blight.

For my life, I run from the myth they sold,
From the polished lie and the blood gone cold.
And though I’m breathless, bruised, and torn,
At least I know I wasn’t born
To die in silence beneath their crown
I’ll set this dream on fire…
and watch it burn down.