We come in peace and they carry their hearts on their sleeves so I get why our hand shakes hurt.

We live on our knees
pray on the needs our hands enrich the very soil that claims us.

This is Why hi fives fall with a touch I remember the count, they couldn’t identify our graves.

They carry their hearts on their sleeves singing the anthem they never understood our tongues tied, answers couldn’t hold the weight of souls that caressed knives on our backs they never liked being addressed as Comrades.

Their stories were half tales he only found the slipper so protest had no rest the kings Men lay died next to the river hacked to serve as reminder the past lives in the present child (the dreamer) with a limp so they chant freedom is a dream that dreamers flee. So what could the captured have?