Tattered, beaten, broken & raped
The things about my life that no one hates
I look to salvage all my mistakes
Maybe something good comes from my haste
The straight long shackle hangs down my waist
Consumed by my lust, fulfill my taste
Emptiness falls like a brick on my face
I look inside and I find a box of erase
Nothing else for me, nothing…just this stanza
A stanza dedicated to my mistakes
Just A Stanza By Muhammad Shoaib Ali.
A place where tall buildings overshadow narrow streets and bright lights reflect off crystallized buildings to dazzle our humanity, a place bright enough to shine over our barefaced rulers and business men who take pride on their paper, the paper they have cheated so hard to earn.
Liars and thieves are respected and innocence has no value. It was not always this way, I remember the same barefaced people stroking my hair as they walked by. They would smile and laugh at others happiness…And now they believe no one cares for their humanity, no one cares.
Where did we fail? When did innocence run out? When did our most dishonored become our champions? When will we learn?
I hope it is not too late.
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Sabature 