Dusty Cobbled Streets

How many times…

When we listen to the years…

Again and again and again,

No understanding…

There was no time to take back the stones,

They were said …

Eager to respond not waiting for reason,

Again and again and again,

The stones did not match …

Lessons of dust,

Whose next,

Believing he had the right to judge,

It’s my way or no way,

His eyes did not see the sadness,

In the eyes of his people,

His ears did not listen to the reason,

His heart did not feel the tension,

His body did not feel the crushing pain,

Around their shoulders,

As they carried the boulders,

Building, building, building,

It has to be now, now now,

No time for a glass of water,

As the sweat rolled down their faces,

With exhaustion,

No rest, no fresh air,

Just dust, dust, dust,

Clouds and clouds as they grit,

Their teeth, clenched their fists,

And pulled the ropes,

Tighter, tighter, tighter,

Let them fall,

Whip them again, again and again,

Let them beg for their bowl,

Let them scratch in the sand X,

Their name to be buried,

Below the piles of never-ending dinosaurs,

Cover them with dust, dust, dust …

Stamp three times, trapping their essence,

Let the winds carry them to freedom …

Where they will forever find Peace …

By Natasha

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