Through my eyes

Where economics is religion
Is the world today
Where love has diminished
And men are just machines
Is the world today. 
We are not allowed to feel
The beats of our hearts 
They want us to know 
Only the mechanics of the physical world. 
Philosophy they say is history,
The real subject is geography,
As they bid us to take our guns, 
And fight with our brothers
For pieces of land.
We still pull out our pens,
To paint the picture of our world
In it's true sense,
All we really want 
Is to compose our note
In the world's piano. 
We refuse to dance
To anybody's tune
For we are the choreographers of the future,
The artists of tomorrow.