What is a Life Worth?
I am familiar with the sounds of their guns and the rising smoke in the distance,
I watch as they lay rubble to my city which once stood as proud as the pyramids of Egypt,
I have seen bodies enough to start a revolution and win it,
I would join them in death, but there it is, posing some form of resistance.

I've seen innocent blood fertilise the trees and seeds of tears sown in the ground where we wept,
My father's grave has become my bed, my mothers, my stool,
Our rulers presume they are doing the right thing in entering this war, yet our blood fills the pools,
Because the war doesn't determine who's right, only who's left.

From the womb to the tomb, this has been the only journey I know,
We are born with dreams, only to die before we get to live,
For eleven years I have eluded the warm hug of death and its kiss as the cold wind blows,
Brought into the world only to be taken before I could show it what I had to give.

I was made to believe that the centre of the world can be anywhere you want it,
Or at least I thought so at birth,
Now here I stand, face to face with death on whose thighs I am about to sit,
Asking, what is a life worth?