Despite all the terror, we’ve seen, 
Cleaned our hands, while others speak 
We dreamed of a better world 
Swirling, twirling, killing, and dying
Our eyes will forever be opened
To the crime that was set aside
As our mothers cry, behind closed doors, 
Pouring out the ashes of a boy they once adored
A Forgotten subject 
That we bleed with the intent of being healed
Sealed up in caskets, like little puppets
Stuff like were magic as we stand there like targets
But those aren’t words anymore, 
Just noise ever since, my brother died
Letters used to bring me joy, 
Until I grew up into nothing thought of as a boy
The toys they give us, pain, and suffering, 
Buffering the idea, that our hands are still clean
We cling to love, as if hate was shoved into our faces
Running scared, to breathe the air
There is no way Ill cut hair