We are head
That lead
Our word
Into the eardrums of the world.
Our voice, a void
That viced the cabals to avoid
All our says by their ways
To make the loopholes with negligent nays.
Never know how huge
Our flaws are to wedge
The storms that barge
Into our lanes and lands at large.
Our world, a war zone
For all sort of famine tone
After enough blood have been shed.
Afterwards, enough cakes and fakes to be shared.
Our wor(l)d
Is ours, our wor(l)d.
That our rights have no right
To write any wright up to the might
Of our world in our word, to drive
Them of what we are deprive
Of, of which is habitual lack to care,
For in their eyes, we are mere.
Our belongings
Somersaulted so longing
That what we get lost
In thoughts of their boast
As all thing that goes up
Dare not to diminish but atop!
