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I tried to live by the norms and was labeled Conformist
So I tried something else, and earned the tag Radical
And then I tried to be both but was called Unstable
I therefore tried to articulate myself, only to be slapped Misleading
When I insisted on explaining, I was stamped Controversial
Finally, I opted to do what I believed in, but was branded Fundamentalist
And because I was somewhat confused, I was named Intolerant
For slowing down to figure the conundrum, I was declared Un-ambitious
I then woke up with a determination that was too Aggressive
Fighting the injustice of illegal occupation, I became an Insurgent
From the prism of so many prisons, I dismissed all as Unacceptable
And so to kill me, they call me Terrorist
Did the bunker-busters bury the bonds of brotherhood?
Interred infinitely in hell holes of hatred?
And liberty blinded, chained to the anchors of a brooding Bay?
So why can my view not be mine, and my cries not heard?
Why can I not simply be me, without a Babel of labels?
Or does my complexion cloud the color of my character?
Does my location limit the lengths my liberty?
Does the spirit of my conviction shackle my soul?
Does my gender maim the mine of my mind?
And is my life worth living?
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Salisu
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