Poem I wrote to express my frustrations and rage at the Amerikan capitalist system. It’s hard to exist somewhere you will never fit in.

Wake up with tears.

They are coated inside my

lungs and heart.

Locked in a scream

towards revolt.

How many must die at the claws of


Claws tear at our skin,

tear at your bodies,

tear at our souls.

We are made indispensible.

Amerikkka is

genocide, is

slavery, is

murder, is

death. This is the

land of

broken limbs,

bleeding hearts,

blown-in lungs.

Revolt catches

my lips, waits for the rest.

When will I wake up with tears

for the revolution?


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