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Dec 2018 · 233
America
Misha Barry Dec 2018
History is old, but there are many stories that never got told,
There are things that no one will ever know,
I ask myself why the world is this position, what build up made this transition?
History books stitching bits of information together,
Missing so many pieces, they placed things where they wanted, told the teachers and they taught it, and we all bought it
But now I can’t help but to dawn on it.
Lies mascaraed the truth, we’ve beaten people black and blue just so you can do what you do,
This whole country was founded on hate,
No wonder so many people are stuck in a negative space,
They say we have freedom but there is reason none of us are speaking up, we’re stuck,
Tied to money, like cinder blocks on our feet, we sink,
Our foundation made of our ancestors bones, we sit on top of it like a throne of lies
You’re on the top of the pyramid no surprise, how many people did you have to step on to get that high?
You’re low, beneath the ground, hell bound, I don’t even believe in it
But the way people are getting treated is way beyond out of convenience,
It’s a repetitive, destructive sequence,
Screaming at high frequency
Can you see?
Or are you as blind as they’ll let you be.
I wrote this thinking about all the ancient knowledge that was lost, and I was thinking about the native Americans, big industries that take advantage of people, and animals, greed, all the hate in the world, The education system, a lot inspired this poem

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