It's not quite my fault the world has to be unjust and cruel.  I'm losing interest in it and I'm losing it fast.  I don't know who I am and I don't know who I should be.  I'm tired of looking at the ground instead of the sky and I'm tired of relying on that half gallon of ***** to make me feel better. I want change, I need it.

Black oil,
Tarnished the white sands of a paradise that is,
No longer a paradise,
Because no matter how much you try to clean it up,
It will always be a shade darker than it used to be.
Not fully regaining its color.
The thick molasses no longer holds it together,
Africa, seems broken beyond repair.

Diamonds don't shine as bright as Rihanna suggested.
Instead they glow red,
With the blood stains of the innocents,
Slaughtered for wedding rings.

Bullets...
Cutting into the flesh of my ancestors,
Like those very diamond cutting into glass,
Because what is life compared to,
A piece of rock?

There is a pseudo-melodramatic darkness that,
Echoes off of every piece of light they reflect.
Sitting only on the fingers and necks
Of the people who can afford them,
As fingers and necks were chopped and severed for them.
I am unable to identify with the cries that still manage to,
Resonate within the wind,
Apparently...
I am the only one that can hear it.

I wish I could alleviate your fears,
that my words were the medicine to your problems.
I wish money was no big deal, because then
you'd be free of having to worry about the bills.
I wish I found a hope for Death, for leaving
and never once more dreaming,
that I could give you-replace the distress buried
like a maggot eating all illusions and hope for
better days- the embers of a promised fire.
I wish I was a better daughter
and though I try my hardest
It is never just enough to eliminate your tears
to the injustice life has shoved upon you.
If anyone deserves all things well,
it is you my caring Mother and for that I resent
this deprecating world.