The stars begin to burn,
and the moon glows in turn.
The lack of the sun's fire
tells me the day's expired.
I lie in my bed, watching T.V,
Hoping the televangelists leave my dulled senses be.
Out in Washington D.C,
work the powers that be.
Regulating, observing,
deterring and, in thought, harmonizing.
Out there, across the sea,
a young man can finally be free.
Bleeding out, about to die,
he sees his freedom finally fly.
In the palaces of oppression
and the shacks of depression,
fear is the precedent,
and major death is a minor event.
I do believe that we can set things right,
but for now, we must endure another sleepless night.