This is to the girls, whose playground heart became roadmaps of battle scars
To the girls whose butterflies were ripped apart by the touch of broken men's palms
The girls who hold the secrets of these withered men's minds in their offshore hearts

This is to the boys, who instead of counting sheeps are counting strokes as the violence spreads to their mothers thighs
To the boys, whose fathers never became men
The boys with black-eyed hearts, borrowed smiles and have become breathing dead; with their hearts wearing the violence like a hoody

This is to the homeless whose wealth is stacked in heaven
To the homeless man or woman, who never dreams
The homeless veterans who became slaves with frostbites in their veins

This is to the minds casting ballots on whether to leave
To the minds, who seem to be endlessly failing at sea
The minds with no shadow to keep them warm at night

                                           Just
                                      S.P.E.A.K

                                                    - Ola Bajo