FAULT
When they kill us, it’s our fault
When we kill us, it’s our fault
While the creators of the game
(Worship weapons, bearing their names)
Sit back and laugh
When we make gains it’s our fault
When they change lanes, it’s our fault
While the instigators hide
Corruption, solely on their side
And add the worst to every victim’s epitaph
When we speak up, it’s our fault
Enough’s enough?
It’s our fault
While empathy decreases
Constant grief slowly releases
All the frustration many don’t dare to show
When we lose sight, it’s our fault
When they start fights, it’s our fault
While hope is hanging by a thread
Many antagonize instead
Is there a place of peace and joy for us to go?
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