Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2015
My people, my people... that's all you hear,
But really, are we all equal?
You see it all the time, you see it in everyone's eyes, the laughs and the lies
As this happens, the river flows red
Crimes of hatred they say
On the news words are twisted
And once again my people, my people, the full story, we missed it
Turns out we're trouble thanks to the color of our skin, our age, the jobs we are given, the pride that we have and the knowledge we lack  blamed for the world's problems, drug dealers and so on so on the crimes they stack
In reality, the real reality, not the imagination that extremists recall as reality but the cold reality seen through an immigrant's eyes, a minority's eye ,the youths eyes we are only here to help and create an everlasting peace between different cultures with slowly increased confusion, in confession we say to ourselves, we're all the same, consumers and buyers, but we all aren't, some of us are cons and liars, deceiving and thieving, but let's forget those for they're the outliers, progressively we're changing, but sadly as people are aging, the change is non-apparent and when I say us, I mean us, the people, the wealth and the hunger not us the separate who preaches unity and yet has such things as ghettos and slums of which no one cares, to whose street traveled, no one dares instead of having one united diverse nation.                                    without fear, separation, depression an intense sensation of grieving expression.
Illiterate and mute, that's my people, and I'm proud we don't need to speak to show you our speech is free, but if we could perfectly talk the language of the higher society, the language of the credible and flexible , we'd say we'd hate to have your liberty and prosperity, for we have something better; a family union, a home-cooked meal in moral values of which you do not, and that is my greater power, we live under the ignorance of Philosophy to whom the end of life there's no insurance people live and people die
anti-hate and self-loving policies will never die...Anti-state, anarchy to all my apologies for the wise never lie...
Alfredo Prado
Written by
Alfredo Prado  Mason, OH
(Mason, OH)   
962
   --- and PrttyBrd
Please log in to view and add comments on poems