A New War
My fingertips are tattered
from the artillery of a new war.
Secrets don’t exist;
tomorrow is a gamble.
A celebration laid to rest
in the confines of my brain.
I’ll jump on the bandwagon of desperation
because it takes a village to dig out of this hole.
No options in my fragile reality —
barely exist or die in the machine.
One fading chance for a stable future;
I jump headfirst into a shot at equality.
Let exhaustion fire the first bullet —
one last push for us all.
In a cold world made for just a few,
the masses will rise.