Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2014
Aren't we proud of ourselves
Now that we won't go to hell
And our products will sell
Because our nation excels

Just ignore the smell

Cause it's ****
Blood, tears, and violence
Admit
That you can hear the silence

Bodies fall from flaming towers
As pigs strip the bones hungry for power
Grind them up into pretty white powder
Shove it up the nose of the poor black 
doubter

Put on a show and call it an election
Sprinkle blow on their wrinkled white *******
Keep our ignorance and bestow the reigns
Upon those who hear dollar signs at our pain

Swallowed all their lies now we're allergic to truth
Rather dump all our problems on the uneducated youth
Rather stack the bodies than speak, it's cold
But with our help they can pave the streets in crimson gold

When everything you love is gone
And you're trapped in the desert chasing a mirage

I want you to look at everyone you hate and all your friends 
And tell me as you die what makes you better than them? 

The man who has your back through hell and more
Is he republican or democrat? Rich or poor?

The woman who looks to you with loving eyes
Would you put a bullet in her head if the price was right?

Before we sell our souls for oil and sin
We might look at ourselves and think again

Because if you open your eyes to peer underneath
All it takes is a mirror to set you free
A pretty poem for a pretty world.
Matthew Nichols
Written by
Matthew Nichols  Ozark, Arkansas
(Ozark, Arkansas)   
627
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems