Yelling at cows To communicate Don’t It’s the nothing to eat And the nothing You won’t It’s illiterate faith In a written conviction Submission To sheepishness Meek superstition Conditions of living Look closer to death It’s traditions Of giving Largesse Dispossessed It’s a kid without shoes, Without pants, Without soap It’s his future Still stuck In the past Without hope It’s a rope Swaying from The back-breaking Day labor When seasonal yields Don’t appease The slave trader It’s nature sustained In humane Sorts of ways Yet its plagues Of malaise No known substance Allays It’s ablaze With the wasted, Mismanaged, Degraded Potential surpluses From scarcely Translated Inveterate cultural norms Antiquated To progress outpacing Its status updated It’s really just sad In explicit Indignity Vapid morasses Morose In its imagery Lacking in prose Like its tax inefficiency’s Masses of ******* Classless delinquency Crassly harassing All those it sees differently Yes just Synonymous with A simplicity Virulent in Its immuno-deficiency