Spoken Word Video + Lyrics: @MizanThePoet ‘Stolen’ (Child Soldiers)

I feel like the odd one out

Born in to a state of mind

Where mor­al­ity has declined

And i cant hit rewind

For being born at the wrong place

And the wrong time

Time!

Is some­thing that i’ve nev­er had in the first place

Being born in the worst way

It feels like yesterday

That my moth­er delivered me

In the hos­pit­al ward

Only to loose my parents

As soon as we exit­ted those doors

Due to a civil war

Facil­it­ated by those admir­ing the cor­por­ate scenery

To des­troy the earths greenery

And impreg­nate my life with illiteracy

Cre­at­ing a slight loss of faith

And i say slight

Because war child can help set the record straight

But not all the way

Because the loss is irreplacable

Of heal­ing i’m not incapable

Even though my lifes stolen

Requir­ing more than just

A spoken word poem

I feel like a problem

Everytime i look at the mirror

I see a soul­less face look­ing back at me

Lost in a world where its rare to give a help­ing hand and does­nt understand

That i just want to be found

Which is why

I feel like the odd one out

Born in to a state of mind

Where mor­al­ity has declined

And i cant hit rewind

For being born at the wrong place

And the wrong time

It seems like when i was concieved

Hope had already had its bags packed

Leav­ing me in the same state as my country

Com­pletely ransacked

My par­ents gave me the one thing i want to give back

Because this little life of mine

Kinda needs help to let it shine

My short timelines interspersed

With geo­po­l­itricks

Being only 11 years old

Yet still i’m forced to pay

For a crime i did­nt commit

I was the only child alive

Scream­ing in the aftermath

Of a bloody massacre

Now blind­folded

And being told to pull the trigger

For­cing my inno­cence to bleed

My heart to beat

My heart to scream the words

I’m sorry

I’m sorry for not being able to bare the pain any longer

Drop­ping the load off my shoulder

And embra­cing the life of a child soldier

I’m sorry

For allow­ing depres­sion, misery and a lack of worth

Act as my emo­tion­al pris­on bars

Trap­ping me in between world leaders

And arms dealers

Act­ing as the pris­on guards

I’m sorry

For loos­ing my struggle to conform

In a place where war is the norm

Lead­ing me to be born in the middle of

One of lifes tragedies

And now forever stuck in a world

That does­nt believe in me

I’m sorry

For believ­ing that ones ability

To love, to care and be good are god given

Because the day my par­ents were killed

My abil­ity to love, to care and everything good about me

Went with them

So i’m sorry for being forced in to some­thing that is wrong

I’m sorry for being a war child

That the world gave up on

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aldwAuyPJZg[/youtube]

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Rishma

Edit­or / PR Con­sult­ant at No Bounds

Rishma Dhali­w­al has extens­ive exper­i­ence study­ing and work­ing in the music and media industry. Hav­ing writ­ten a thes­is on how Hip Hop acts as a social move­ment, she has spent years research­ing and con­nect­ing with artists who use the art form as a tool for bring­ing a voice to the voiceless.

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