The heirs; the sufferers
Ancestors; criminals
When no one claims the world
When the owner will never be heard

No mantle to hide the remains
No lexis to cover the crimes
You were lucky to have been born before us
What you missed we should fill no we must

Nothing else to loom over the murders
Nothing else to veil the mess
Well, perhaps, the band-aid with Finn the Human
Or that shirt with Daang Matuwid

I love you – oh hypocrisy
You can die out of despair
Don’t pull us down, don’t burden us all
When you’re making a fool out of yourself

It fears me to be like you
Yet the possibility of it is not far
But today I shall think not only of myself
I shall think of everyone else

So bold, so big, yet so small
What have you got to push on
Just these few lines to keep my veins fueled
To remind me the time of ancestry will come


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