Can you hear him?
Can you hear him whispering behind his window
Can you hear the rain tick against the glass ever so slow
To remind him that the rain hasn't stopped for years
But the pavement isn't drenched with water but with blood and tears
The revolution has started, and the mob is cold hearted
Can't distinguish friend from foe, nor those living or departed
All they see is rage and pain
So many different reasons to revolt, but their screams the same
Freedom … Freedom
This is the chant that reaches the sky
These are the words for which many will die
But the revolution doesn't care
So he stands behind his window with an empty glare
And he looks down upon the fighting, the gunshots and the hate
He looks down upon all those who want control over their own fate
They no longer want to rob, just so they can eat
No longer want to be scared walking down their own street
This isn't for oil, religious reasons or terrorists … No
This isn't for wealth, fame or recognition … No
They are fighting for peace
And until success the revolution will not cease
Until they have what they are screaming for
Nothing less and nothing more
Freedom … Freedom
So he stands behind his window, patiently waiting
Until those in power decide to share
Until those in power decide they care
Until they do Africa is bleeding
And with it the economy is dying
This is not rain this is a country crying
And the people are tired of drowning in these tears
Tired of waiting until the smoke clears
So they stand up strong and keep their heads high
If Africa is to be reborn, let it first die
That is the revolution that's why they fight
Trapped in darkness but there's a small piece of light
Freedom … Freedom
This is for that child that had to watch his family get shot
This is for that child that keeps watching the sky hoping for blessings to drop
His stomach is round, filled with nothing but air
And I won't waste your time asking if it's fair
But this is for that child that had to dropp out of school
No money to pay tuition but wants to go to school
The child that rather studies then plays and gets called a fool
Freedom of ignorance, knowledge its tool
So he stands behind the window, realizing he is dead
Shot in the head by the same revolution that said
This is for the people, and he was hoping it was a dream
But it isn't so he makes two fists and he wants to scream
Freedom … Freedom
[...] Read more
poem by Vino Venitas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
