In my native scribble I write with complete disregard for those who place themselves above me, because in the end they’re beneath it all.

In my native scribble I speak of the unjust rules that are in place, because they are not there to make me strong, they are there to make me a slave.

In my native scribble I depict my mind wandering free, because in my harsh reality I’m not allowed to speak my peace.

In my native scribble I can describe the pain I feel, and to the opposition, I will never, ever yield.

Through my native scribble my spirit remains alive, and though I may not always be here, my spirit, it will never die.

Through my native scribble I can break down all barriers, and through the words that I write, I’ve become the “Lone Warrior”.

In my native scribble I’ve written a song I love to sing, and because of that song, my freedom, one will certainly ring.

In my native scribble its clear my situation sucks, but if you can’t define any of the words I’ve used, too bad, go and look them up!

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