4
added by cuteypuffgirl
Source: ME!
OHMYGAWD I AM SO BORED D: So I made a cover for a story I MIIIIIIGHT write. Took me a while and badly edited but I upendo IT ANYWAY :D THOUGHTS?
This True Writers sanaa ya shabiki might contain anime, comic kitabu, manga, cartoon, and mkono.
When will this end?
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying kwa their own hands every day.
Some say they will make America better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will upendo start?
The siku we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The siku we upendo too much to kill
The siku others' pain becomes our pain
The siku we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
Yes, it's hard, but let us try.
Mass shootings
Terrorist attacks
Police brutality
They say it's just a gun control problem
They say it cannot be fixed
I say the problem is deeper
I say there is hope
When will this end?
Income inequality
Veterans living on the streets, penniless,
Dying kwa their own hands every day.
Some say they will make America better
But nothing has changed...
And I truly do fear
Nothing ever will
When will upendo start?
The siku we offer a hand to the fallen
Instead of cringing back in shock
And running away
When will our world change?
The siku we upendo too much to kill
The siku others' pain becomes our pain
The siku we act instead of just talking about it
"It's impossible"
"We're too broken to be mended"
"It's a hopeless battle"
Yes, it's hard, but let us try.
Newly born
Squeals
Pitifully
A tiny voice raised high
Going nowhere
Confined
Confused
A single spot on the page
Then
It grows
And walks in waves and braves the uchungu, chungu wind
Shakily on its spindly legs, it smudges the paper
imba its first tune
A tiny tune
Twirling and whirling
It grows taller
And tougher
With every beat of its half-grown heart
It grows
Joined kwa others
They sing together
A forgotten voice
A reflection
Of Lost symphonies
Tooting their trumpets
They stand to attention
An army of discord
Marching forth
Into a brand new dawn
Squeals
Pitifully
A tiny voice raised high
Going nowhere
Confined
Confused
A single spot on the page
Then
It grows
And walks in waves and braves the uchungu, chungu wind
Shakily on its spindly legs, it smudges the paper
imba its first tune
A tiny tune
Twirling and whirling
It grows taller
And tougher
With every beat of its half-grown heart
It grows
Joined kwa others
They sing together
A forgotten voice
A reflection
Of Lost symphonies
Tooting their trumpets
They stand to attention
An army of discord
Marching forth
Into a brand new dawn
