SURVIVAL
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The world has refused to be civil
She's armed with vices and evils
Mysteries no one can unravel
A situation that leaves me marvelled
The whistle of wind so wild
An atmosphere apparently defiled
Since I was a little child,
life has never proved to be mild
The streets are starved of smiles
It's all sorrow in pathetic piles
I have walked many miles
all I see is destruction in styles.
Sometimes life is all about torture
profound pains without a measure
Still survival remains our culture
as we fight for a better future
Everyday we live our lives
Though struggles try to deprive
we still ensure to stay alive
Survival seems to be the drive
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