Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Molly and Her Little Lucy

Nothing better than I chance to show you how I’ve froze over hell givin’ Beelzebub a chill, Your fables hold little weight when you try to justify their existence as long as I continue dissect your deities, Not that I am entitled but I can careless about how you explain yourself without the brain, I’ve been broken and forced to put the pieces back together because I’m not ready to embrace the oblivion without a say, Without of a chance to reciprocate what you didn’t do for me, I’m telling you to fuck yourself till I fill in your grave, Get ready son for your vacant destiny, I’m done with the mental constraints of your needs, I’m fed up with taking a beating for the ignorance that breeds, Your about to bounce a check that will leave you dangled at the neck, Not a threat but I didn’t oppress the armed of ancestral resistance, That desk can’t keep you from the reach of those who believe in unconditional independence, And you know why you walk a thin line, It isn’t because of those nickels and dimes you earn overtime, It isn’t because you drive home to a white picketed life full of lies, It’s because you know if one of us grabs a mic we might turn to the tide, the next chapter of this species existence, Making you extinct, You think daddy’s inheritance will let you pass any Bill, But it only takes one to change the tone, One to alter the course of incest fostered governance, Not suggesting a Reich’s renovation, Or an imperialist’s intervention, But an interruption to this Nation’s corruption, Fuck your principals, fuck what your father’s told you, It’s our turn to mend this debilitated democracy, To end this domesticated atrocity, So sorry not trying to foment insurrection, Just asking the children to picket your legislative lickings, The documents you pen in order to silence dissidence, But I’m not going to fear old men with millions,
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
carmelo-antone
American
Published
Jan 10, 2013
Lines·Words
43·331
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell carmelo-antone how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write