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Poem
You’ve become a wicked ale to swallow

I like my brews nice and cold

And most of all bitter

But you’re too sinister

You’re killing our brothers and sisters

 

You’re neglecting our cries

 

We must stutter

Or maybe our cries mumble

Because you don’t hear us

 

You forgot us

Laid us out to dry in the sun just to prune shrivel

You’ve managed to make it seem everything is in tune

Only to find out it’s only your tune

And at the same time

You’re conjuring hell’s rising

 

And your bag of tricks

Well

For one, you mislead

You sell misery disguised as glory

Across our borders

And they eat it up

And when they come

Chopped meat they become

 

We’re grazing on scraps in the meantime

While chasing our next thrill on maps

Which you track

Instead of watching our back

 

If I could put you in a sleeper hold

I would

Maybe you’d reset

 

Your credo is

Bombs, money, power

Or is it

Money, bombs, power

 

The American dream died long ago

Exhausted by big egos

 

Big pockets,

They dropped the eight ball in the side pocket

While we weren’t looking

 

Distraction has so much sex appeal

They raped us

Eyes wide opened

 

And you,

America the free, enslaved us with mental chains

And never intended on letting us be

Creating an orphanage of destitute souls

 

Because his motherland gave her right tit to a chosen few to suckle

And when that wasn’t enough to satiate

She gave the left

And limb by limb we’re torn

 

Rule by fear

Divide and conquer

 

What year are we in!!

Disgraceful to call home, home

When home lends no shelter

 

America,

We let her be

 

She, once a virgin

Full of promise

Full of hope

Full of all dreams come true

 

Now a prostitute to bulky business

No vaseline

She takes it clean as a whistle
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