Yellow bellies cry,
A decree to defy,
A life to satisfy,
When the days become the moments to excavate your existence,
Elevate from your unsealed coffin,
Instead of having to scratch at earth after it smothers you,
It’s a cliché in so many ways,
A roller coaster of yells, thrills, and shrills,
Bringing us to a rise like the sun being timed,
The warmth of light, ascending towards the clearest of skies,
Strapped in like the others, with the same state of mind,
Smiling because of the rails they gave us, our guides,
Daring till we descend into darkness,
Blindness of a foggy night,
Strapped in because this ride will pass others by,
But that doesn’t mean we can’t survive,
A life that will remember those who think twice,
Victimized because we speak against authoritarian audacity,
They're testing our humanly elasticity,
Forgetting other minds,
Their worse enemies,
No matter if he’s a priest,
No matter if somehow he was allowed to teach,
The people are here to preach.