When guns are being shot
bombs being dropped
people screaming in pain
wailing in sorrow and desperation.
I lie in my bed
my feet tucked under the covers
to protect me from the imaginary monsters
the ghouls, ghosts and skeletons
the cyclopes with thick spiky hair
in pink, green, purple and orange.
Unbeknownst to me all these years
they werent hiding underneath my mattress
or lurking in the shadows inside my wardrobe
instead they sit in court rooms and offices
in conferences to decide the fate of millions
who they do not value
who they disregard without a second thought
they introduce the rules we follow
the values we believe
then they go out for a beer.
They bomb the countrys they think are dispensable
whilst dancing in a club
hoping we won't make a peep
yet even if we did protest
they know there's nothing we can do
cause we do not hold the power, they do.