Pages We Can't Rewrite

The streets keep turning pages. We can rewrite truth. Getting through the cracks in the daylight. We can rewrite truth. Watching tires rise while the bottom row gets stepped on daily by the same old gang. Voices silence quick when they call out the blame. Nostalgia hits hard for the days we believe. Before the mirrors crack, then the lies we perceive. We shout through the static, but the signal stays weak. Society's mirror shows the cracks that we seek. Anger shows the cracks that we seek. Angry at the cycle that keeps us in place. Nostalgic for a future we can't seem to face. It's the chain. Drawn in the dust. In between. Mothers hold the weight while the system pretends. To care about the broken that it never mends. Youth with fire in their eyes, but the outlets of view. Turned against each other when the real foes in view. Every headline twists the story we live. Paints the struggle pretty, so the powerful forgive. We remember the laughter before the divide grew wide. Now the anger boils over from the pain deep inside. One spark of light, but the darkness is hid. But the grip on our throats makes the words feel forbid. Nostalgic hearts pounding with the rage that won't die. We claw. The walls till the truth starts to fly. The streets keep turning pages. We can't. We can rewrite what the shout grows louder in the dead of the night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night. Night.