I am my masters slave
Surrounded by fields and shallow caves
I stand here looking upon the mighty corn field
My mouth is stuffed with grass thread sealed

I am my masters slave
When gust winds blow my hand starts to wave
Standing strong I show am brave
I love this job that he gave

I am my masters slave
Rain, storm, heat leaves me withered
But with my husky style am not bothered
I stand here without any complain

I am my masters slave
Day goes by with scaring crows
Night passes staring at the field rows
With my masters hat on, I surely give a **** pose

I am my masters slave
My head strapped on tight with rope
My hands and legs dangle on the pole
I don't have feelings neither am a living soul

I am my masters slave
Serving with all my will and might
An unpaid job but with a title given as scar knight
I am happy to live in my masters sight

I am my masters slave
I will always serve my masters orders
In all good and grieving times with my other hordes
All knitted and standing some at the borders

My master is my friend
I shall serve him faithfully till the end
Until my master finally rests in his grave
Till then, I am my masters slave


©sim

Masters are cruel
Mine is kind
Masters use us as tools
I'm useful, he'll find

Masters are violent
Mine is just playing a game
Masters are tyrants
Mine is Self tame.

Masters are greedy,
Mine rewards
Masters are ugly
Mine is something to look towards

Masters have slaves
Mine has a servant who loves these days.

we are the masters of self-destruction
trying to numb the pain with wine
and drugs
and smoke filling up our lungs,
we write down in lines with no rhyme
all the things
that make our souls burn and die.
our poems bleed
we drink their blood
then we write again,
listening to stupid songs all night
wishing sometimes we were deaf
wishing we were dead.
we let the doors open
anyone with a knife can come inside
cutting our hearts in half,
any tear is welcome
to create the ocean around us
in which we deliberately drown ourselves.
masters of self-destruction,
our bodies are temples where dying souls hide,
we run till our legs are broken
jump off cliffs
go between sharks' cheeks
forgetting to sleep
to dream
we bleed
we drink
we love
and hurt
it's a madmen game we play
each day
laughing hysterically
while slowly taking steps to the graves
we dug for ourselves,
the masters of self-destruction we are
lunatics
worshiping what's not for us to adore
crying
hiding
falling again
and again.
legs broken,
hearts cut and eaten
flesh ripped from our bones
lungs full of water
ears burnt
our eyes scream
but that's fine
'cause we are the masters of self-destruction
and our life is just a mad game