Well I've said before that poems are just a state of the Human mind, and I wont tell its a lie. But this one I did imagining a foreigner alone in some Medival Arab country.....try to picture it, this has more meaning than what is evident... its about people who like to abuse and taunt when you fail, take your advantage so they might succeed (the goons I referred to), relatives, friends, all lies, and how they come to respect you when you choose to stay and fight, and get powerful. This is LIFE I tried a hip-hop-angry kinda thing, so its weak and you'd feel free to improvise! I'm in a strange land with people staring me in the face, I believe they are strange, They believe I'm stranger. Its a bustling crowd, Angry to see a foreigner; Some pelting stones, some taunting, Some making stories, some just grunting. Nobody knows where I came from, or where I will go, I should have been here, somewhile ago. I feel naked and lost in the fascination of markets, with goons and thugs stalking me huddling around me, conspiring against me. I wish I'd go away, far from their despicable stares. I have many places to be, to live my life without their fears. If they wont make me happy, why do they make me sad? Sometimes I want to run away, leave all I'd ever had. But I know I shall not flee, from attrocities and adversities. so one day the same head that rises to blame, shall bow in esteemed reverence. I know I'll break but never bend, I know I'll fight till the end. Someday the world will break its defiance, And recognise me through its respectful silence.