I feel like a HibakushanMarked with scars of another's affairsnHelpless to defend my honornWho knew the bushido could failnnHammered bamboo and broken backsnLiving under the red dot flagsnIt sits alone amidst the whitenLike targets- Fire what you willnnDown here in dystopianKill who are and where you're fromnYou'll still receive your labelsnOn the tops of uni-bombsnnAbandon traditionnIt obviously failed you nownOn papal thrones and minutemennAbsorb your propagandic vowsnnCan you see beyond the clothingnCan you see beyond the skinnCan you see past the mindsetnThat you have grown up havingnnI feel like a HibakushanBoasting burns of another's ordealsnHopeless to preserve my name whennBrothers rise with wills of steelnnBurn my kimono in the streetsnDo you like my flag pinsnSure patriotic they may seemnBut I don't want themnnAm I breathing - It's so easynTo exhale words of condescensionnLike an open tapnJust by living - I can't help itnSuddenly, nailed to the boardnLike butterfly displaysnOf 'my name is' tags