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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Shadow's of slaves Capital cities are so, Populated, People moving, Up and down, Left and right, Wondering around like ants, Working like it do, Or die, Always busy doing something, Seen and unseen, Some are in the high castle, Some are in the glass house, Some are in a square room, Just like a prisoner, Some are on the corners of The streets, Everyone working day by day, Night by night, All sicking for satisfaction, Material satisfaction is all, They long for, Spiritually they are dead, Living with less love, Hunting for money all the time, Few men are the masters Of the cycle city life, They toil less, They are on the hills, Of power, Controling every events, In the city, The movement of the people, Is their business, On every coners, Their marks are seen, Their rules, Remain the final, Do otherwise or, End in 4square, Just like, The master and the slave, In every walls of the cities, I can hear shadows speaking, Of a grief they bear, Oh! The walls are, a prove to this truth, The sands on the grounds, In the third world contries, And all over the globe, Can testify to the brutalities, Cos! The ground has swallowed, Too many innocent soul, Of the war from the top, The men on the hills of power, In Africa,probably all over, the g....e, No chains around the body, Of the people, Yet they are not free, No wipe on their back, Yet they feel a pain, How can we make the world A better place, When the true nature of life Is turn to a game, The game of the fitess, Freedom is never earn, But now we always, Fight for freedoom, Sicking help from the bosses, Known but unseen, Like a modern slave, In a modern world, On every walls, And coners of the cities, Is ovious that the shadows, Shown are like, Shadow's of slaves
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