Those past live to make home inside of me,
We did break rules for living,
Rise of living fees call for flee,
Empty pots rolling on laps
For securing stomach for day long,
Like we did wrong.

God forsake us,
We just pray because we grew up on that naysay,
We broke apart for swimming just to feel cool,
We did just that in hot days, with no joy days.

We live in times that are tragic,
With all good and bad in traffic,
To community it was horrible.
Those stories told about us were tangible,
To some: for us it was paining,
Painting pictures of bad future,
We live hopeless,
Everybody sees us as useless,
We were dogs without barking.

Torn shoes and clothes,
We get to school,
Where we seek for no reason for living,
But I keep striving,
Not forgetting we live in torture,
We seek food in pestle and mortar for living.
We give all to tears during day,
Without knowing what to archive inside stomach,
In garden we search for spinach.

Rest assured pain was in gain for living,
Friends’ fun were made from stories of living.
Mud houses were reason for laughing.
Dough-making was rear driving,
For action,
We dwindle for sanction