Cyra the poet
Dripping pen
The strong you bear
the tears I tear
as my fellows chear
pen and paper my dear
little I am
as you hold the arm
yours is high pitch
under the sea is my low pitch
life is a traject
previous acted like an agent
we are cry of dry
you despise our tear
fake promise daily
cherubic promising in box of tally
fight for social status
now is a social molest
voice of change you gave
change of voice you have
your mouth just in a rave
no other option to us just to be nave
luxuries holding you claim
splashing H²O on our tatters you blame
humbleness was a fate
as respect became fade
Nowhere to be heard
your pocket is a period
widows are trying
orphans are crying
as streets are dying
where are you
we thought you could help
this needy time of help
folding hands you care more
just molding you run out
egotistically you are
fooled us ,later to never see you
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