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Oco
Poems
Feb 2014
oprimida
You can’t feel pain
They said to the fish
They served him filleted
On a nice silver dish
You’re not a real person
They said to the slave
They whipped him and beat him
All the way to his grave
You don’t work hard
They said to the poor
They let them all starve
When they asked for more
When the slaves and the fish
And the poor were all gone
They looked at each other
And a war was on
Written by
Oco
Bronx, NY
(Bronx, NY)
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