warpeaceandpolitics
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Time rewind my past tracks,
As I hurtle towards the future.
I feel the need to fix the beat,
When I cannot refuse it.
Limitations are a key confliction,
Being quiet restricting,
Nothing was simple, not even before.
Unanswered questions appeared at the door.
For months nothing seemed to make sense anymore.
But we sang about peace, just like children.
Long ago in the old folk’s place
A boy with innocence on his face
Came to knock on the gated door
The man behind it saw a child there
With blue eyes and mussed blonde hair
