Tattered, beaten, broken & raped
The things about my life that no one hates
I look to salvage all my mistakes
Maybe something good comes from my haste
The straight long shackle hangs down my waist
Consumed by my lust, fulfill my taste
Emptiness falls like a brick on my face
I look inside and I find a box of erase
Nothing else for me, nothing…just this stanza
A stanza dedicated to my mistakes

Just A Stanza By Muhammad Shoaib Ali.

A place where tall buildings overshadow narrow streets and bright lights reflect off crystallized buildings to dazzle our humanity, a place bright enough to shine over our barefaced rulers and business men who take pride on their paper, the paper they have cheated so hard to earn.
Liars and thieves are respected and innocence has no value. It was not always this way, I remember the same barefaced people stroking my hair as they walked by. They would smile and laugh at others happiness…And now they believe no one cares for their humanity, no one cares.
Where did we fail? When did innocence run out? When did our most dishonored become our champions? When will we learn?
I hope it is not too late.

Calling me at home
The life that you want to live
And as the story goes
We are growing dead and cold
Id like to say I do
But ill never ever love you
You hold me in your arms
But I don’t feel the same

Id like to take the blame
But its not all on me
Stop driving me insane
With your feelings of love
I think the only way
Is to run far away from me
But I don’t really care
Cause I am weak

You try so hard not to lose your faith
You find yourself on a crossroad
Where everything is in conflict in your head
And you know you cant go on like this

When the sun comes out you don’t feel alive
And the people that walk around are faceless
No one really cares where your coming from
Another life that’s lost…Another life that’s lost…

Our homeland is broken…Our mother is broken…We did this.