Death Sentence

Our heads always have been on the chopping block. If you hate me because of my colour or my faith you can sentence me to death .

I have a problem, I can't think right. I have made many kids cry for help. Maybe it's fair for you to close all the windows and let no light come in. Don't I deserve to breathe the same air of sanity like you do?
But my hands were made to be marked and my face to be painted black.

I see you chose to stand on the other side of the road, wearing the robes of a saint, then why do you carry a knife in your hand? Your hands are drenched with the blood of a sinner, it is just as red as mine. But I am the one who is suppose to die.

Brother, my death is your death, my life is your life.

Plastic Flowers

If I sell your favorite shiny black boots to the wrath of drought, will it wither under the stare of the sun? The stories from city can save your throat for only so long. Past week or past life, your memories will betray you.

Instead I'll cover you with fluorescent lights, the moon will abandon you. If you love the cold metal monster breathing down your neck I'll let the ocean breeze know you don't miss it anymore . Concrete walls and graying streets, green fields of plastic creates such beauty that the softness of  leaves is too insignificant to be felt again.

I'll give you everything outside so you'll never have to look inside again.