Maybe it's stupid and unreachable
But at least it's a world worth fighting for
Or is this what you've been led to believe
With your lids half-open, you'll never really see
Take a look around you, in every direction
Your home, is it even built to last?
What awaits you is a life of imperfections
Still living in days long past
When will you wake up and realize
The world is not what you can claim to prize
So look , look at the world in all its sorrow
Is this really the world you want,
Under a sky with no room for tomorrow?
In quiet anger you can seethe
But would it ever make a difference
Perhaps not, but at least you're not passive
Or maybe it's the notion
Of hope and freedom beyond our grasp
That puts you through the motions
You probably couldn't care
Any less than you do, about simple things
Like what we breathe: the quality of air
It’s not clean, as we perceive
It’s dirty, filthy, soiled, polluted
The same goes for freedom, as it were
Freedom is a given it is said
But oft we can demur
The validity of such a slur

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A lot of things make me angry, so I got a pen and wrote this hoping to articulate my conceptions on the subject.