Tortured Youth

I have a friend who is trapped.
He drives a car, has two beautiful girls, and a wife.
I have a friend who loves deeply.
He can see the ocean’s beauty, and how high the wings of a bird can take them.
I have a friend who is tortured.
His morning is rushed by breakfast, shaving, and cleansing,
Ruined by the rush of selling, of making profit.
After his chains are removed, and his feet are slowing,
He comes home to his children’s souls glowing.
I have a friend who is lost,
while the illusions of a society are poisoning
The friend I know is losing.
Each day goes by and the man is decaying,
while his intelligence is slowly draining, in one ear and out the other.
I have a friend who is in a self made prison.
Stuck by the pressures of following, of doing what the next man does,
Never stopping to see the grass grow, the river flow, or the red rose smell.
If your worries are as large as the growing moonlight,
Cut them out and watch for the sun rise,
As the darkest night, is always followed by the brightest sunlight.
Lets play music, lets share our thoughts, lets make art, Lets be free.
Express ourselves till there is no more darkness.
Because I have friends without any light.


One thought on “Tortured Youth

  1. The most of us know exactly our place in this prision that we call society. Screw fluid where was supose to have an articulation. Nothing is organic, everything is programmed. And we thought we were alive. THINK, SPEAK, LISTEN, DRINK, READ, VOTE, SPEND. NO SIR, YES SIR.
    We can ask ourselves: where are my robot eyes?
    But is easier to “live” in this prision than reinstall the system.
    And it´s crazy to think, and if everything could change? and if we could fly like fan eagle flying freely?
    maybe we would create another kind of jail. Like rare birds that have afraid of the blue sky. But our prision is not material… we´ve lock our souls.

    – Sorry if I wrote something wrong… my English is not as good as I would like. Hugs from Brazil

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