We are only to blame for the problems we’ve never fixed

Therefore, our voice is muted and our thoughts, insecure

When we float on a cloud is a cliff not so diminished?

We are but only the mother of the problem

We speak, we nod but our problems are never picked

For our transgressions caused a whir in the sky we must endure

You mustn’t be as sharp as a dagger to start yet haven’t finished

Our souls stained as dark as obscurity; we must cleanse them

Until our problems are solved, we shall forever fight

Or forever be locked in our restricted plight