The sirens wail, a symphony of dread,

Echoes bouncing off walls, inside my head.

Not just brick and mortar, these barriers stand,

But constructs of a system, built on shifting sand.

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Born into the hunt, a predetermined role,

Where survival's a gamble, that takes its cruel toll.

The streets are a labyrinth, with no escape in sight,

And shadows conceal, what's wrong and what's right.

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Iron bars and badges, a constant, looming threat,

A cycle of violence, we can't seem to forget.

Trauma etched deep, in the lines on my face,

A legacy of struggle, in this desolate space.

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Is this freedom's illusion, a deception so grand?

Where opportunity's choked, by an invisible hand?

We're pawns in a game, where the rules are unsaid,

And the weight of the world, rests heavy on my head.

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The ghosts of the fallen, whisper in the breeze,

A chorus of sorrow, carried through the trees.

We're trapped in this narrative, written in blood,

A cycle repeating, misunderstood.

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Is there a way out, from this concrete cage?

To break these chains, and turn a new page?

To find redemption's whisper, in the deafening roar,

And a purpose that transcends, what we're fighting for.

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The raid is not just physical, it's a war on the mind,

A battle for hope, that's increasingly hard to find.

But even in darkness, a flicker remains,

A yearning for something, to ease these deep pains.

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Perhaps liberation lies, not in escape from these walls,

But in breaking the cycle, that causes our falls.

To rise from the ashes, with wisdom and grace,

And build a new future, for this desolate space.

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The cage may be concrete, but the spirit can soar,

If we find the strength, to open a new door.

To rewrite the narrative, redefine our fate,

And break free from the system, before it's too late.

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To find peace in the struggle, knowing one day we will be free.

Free from the shackles of the life we used to see.