Rewrite the Script

Greed for power casts storms and darkness to our land.

When will we ever learn to choose the ones who will truly protect us?

The blue skies, once clear and bright,

are stained red by the gushing blood of the innocent.

The white light, the hope of truth,

gets dimmed by shadows of deceit.

Yellow fields, once ripe with promise,

are buried beneath gray towers.

Their concrete walls rising higher  

while the people below suffocate.

We’ve seen this show before—  

puppets who promise change.

But move in synch behind the scenes,

in filling their pockets while everyone’s busy laughing at the staging.

Underneath their big bright smiles are vaults of stolen dreams,

and we are distracted by illusions of their facade.

How many times have we seen this same play?  

How many more leaders must fail us,

before we remember the lessons we’ve ignored?

The answer lies with us.

We, the people, are the hope.

If we choose not to be blinded by empty promises,

we can rise above.

It’s time to end the spectacle,

to see past, the glitz, and glamour that distracts us.

To open our eyes to the bitter reality we've long ignored,

and face the sorrow and struggle that demand change.