this nation, fabricated upon their broken spines,
yet still, they gait on fragmented glass.
besought for their valedictory draught,
before the lynch with a knee,
"THUGS"
you, merely afraid,
"looting starts, shooting starts"
to resist the monster of your own making

srax10

my tragic war cry;

It asks the soul to stand in despise

It takes crumbs of life 

which no knee can explore

as show is not the show of ego 

but becomes pictorial view of pain 

impossible of any gain.

They did not finish

They could not fix the lives.