Why

I'm sick and tired of fear.
I don't want to have to grow up at age fourteen.
I don't want my income to choose my education.

I want to be a kid
Who can dream about living in the past.
I can't stand my era of Hell any longer.

Take me back to a time
When the cause was just,
When people gave a second glance to morals,
And slowly rose out of the dust.

Why can't I play in the street?
Why can't African Children have enough to eat?
Why do I have to fear every white van I see on the road?

Why does everyone my age attack?
Why can't I go back
To when nothing but my imagination mattered?

It does me no good to dwell
On what I've been through in Hell.
Three more years until I'm okay.

I can't wait to see
Who has the last laugh...

Them or me?