The Wall We Build

A history engraved, a story shouted out. "They are not us," the voices echoes loud, As wall of hatred rise, a silent shroud. The drums of conflict, a deafening sound, Each tribe a voice, a whispered plea, Yet lost in this discord. The youth stare, with eyes so wide, At the hatred that they cannot hide. The elders weep in agony, a silent tear, For futures lost, held ever near.