I write poetry in my free time.
This is my entry:

Title: Chained

I stand at my window and stare
At beautiful wreckage around,
At suffering beyond imagination.

How did we come to this?
So deep we wouldn't pull out,
Even when offered help.

Maybe we gave up without knowing
Forgetting the struggles of leaders past

For now they've lost hope us
Even before we knew ourselves

Who will stand for us?
Who will pull us out.