Living in a toilet,
tiny shit.
Small, square world,
growing slimmer.
We don’t fit.
Not enough money,
at the end of the month.
Chewing leftovers.
Hungering for more.
Poverty eats your dreams.
Police dissin’ us.
Brutal,
broke someone’s arm last week.
Spraying bullets, kicking down doors.
And they say we are dangerous?
A war on the streets,
against drugs,
against us.
Violence will eat your dreams.
We have to go,
back to our country.
We were born here,
where were you
when they handed us out
shitty jobs.
Racism will eat your dreams.
Media and politics,
playing ping pong.
Increasing hate,
dividng retoric.
We don’t get changes,
we will have to take them.
Obstacles will eat your dreams.
Dreams are all we have left.
Poet’s site is:
WILDsound Festival 