I found a way for us all to be together
Be my brother words of a feather

Together we can bring upon triumph
Together we bought together

To bring upon triumph
Words bought together

Can we as people not bring upon what we are
People that come from a sacred race

That built us a shrine
Together forever to remember the divine

Can we have our children taught
So violence is not made whatever

Can we bring upon the future
To bring us another creature feature

Creature were brought to serve human beings
Although they never should be slaughtered

To bring us things
They keep the lonely company

Just to bring upon
Whatever lifesaver forgot

Animals have not sent us to the grave
To settle what is empty

To give us invincible might
What has brought us together by slight

Can we teach our children to be wild and free
So we can settle together human races economy

We have pressing issues
Can make us cry to give us tissues

We mend as brothers
To mend one another

Let's start at the very beginning

Prologue.
Brown skin. Flat nose. Short.
I was a free land for you to take.
For once I was in glee.
Until you had me taken and used.
You have forgotten who you are.

Chapter 1.
A blank page. A mystery.
Who were you really?

Chapter 2.
White skin. Pointed Nose. Tall.
A variety of people I didn't recognize.
You welcomed them while some fought with blood.
This is what you've done.
You have sold who you are.

Chapter 3.
The never-ending battle.
The battle within oneself.
You told yourself you are free.
There are no battles, no blood, no freedom.
You have forgotten what freedom is.

Chapter 4.
There are battles. There is blood.
Yet you have chosen to close your eyes.
Is this the love you have proclaimed for me?
You have helped no one with your steels and wood.

Chapter 5.
You freed yourselves from the dictator.
But there is still no peace at hand.
You all drown from the deep flood.
Yet you'd rather race each other to the shore.
Haven't you realized? You are not in the sea.

Chapter 6.
You are not at land either.
At least not ours.
You step at our muddy lands yet your mind is far from home.
You scrub your skin until its white.
To you, your skin is dirt.

Chapter 7.
Across the land, some eyes are red.
Their hands are rough with dirt,
clutching unto a plastic that smells.
It dives unto their minds and they smiled.
I wasn't able to protect them when you saw them with a bullet in their heads.

Chapter 8.
Mothers and Fathers that I raised
Have left me and you as well
To be able to put zero's in your wallets
They fight with their hands so rough
You. For you. But what about me? How about me?

Chapter 9.
It's an unending cycle of a triangular shape.
You fall. I fall. Some rise.
You all have lost hope and wish to leave me so soon.
Is this really who you are?
Will I never find who I truly am?

Chapter 10.
An empty page.
The writer of the book grew tired.
He didn't continue— or he never got to.
No one really knew.

Epilogue.
The page was not there.
Ripped like a masterpiece.
A painting of blood along its back.

I am an open book, ready for anyone to read.
Yet you have flipped me close and left me to fill with dust.
You have left me on the bookshelf
and slept in a locked room.

We worry and we wrestle
Day by Day
With the thought
We won't have enough
Our account balances
Sometimes as low
As our happiness.
And instead of wading
In life's treasured moments
Like some picturesque Hallmark
We sit in an ocean of frowns
Contagious they feed us
With the thoughts that
Maybe someday we
Might have enough
Maybe we too can
Have enough money
Where we can control
Our own destinies
And maybe if we just
Work hard enough
We too can join

The enlightened
The happy
The free
But as life's camera
Zooms out of focus
Our slave collars tighten
Around the dollars
We grip onto with our
Strength that slowly fades
Starving, as we stare
At some motivational story
Hanging on the mantle
Of our Master's mansions.

In America
You're either rich or ******
Or privileged enough
To be ****** by the rich
Medical bills
Car insurance
Groceries
Utilities
Student loans
******* that nobody can afford
Yet everybody pays for
Because this is America
And we need to have it all
In America
I'm ******
Because I'm not a millionaire
And that's the kind of salary you need
In order to survive

I watch the flicker of lights
They are clear and steady
Blazing out continuously
In brilliant letters

Huge digital billboards
And cold electronic signs
Sending signals to the brain
Of the latest consumer designs

No time to think
No time to digest it
Keep on working
To pay for the transmit

I will buy a new car
And replace the TV
Keep the system rolling
As part of the economy

Stroll around the mall
Listen to the doublespeak
Join in with the crowd
Buy the same as last week

Buy now, buy now
Self autonomy
Buy it replace it
Its good for the economy

Goodbye for now
But you will be back
Customer loyalty
With biofeedback

We are all subject to the train’s pull
No matter our worth in weight or wealth
No matter the sum of gold noosing necks & wrists
Gravity wringing aspirations into pools at our feet

We are sacks of meat, burdened by the heaviness in knowledge & consciousness:
The knowing we are, and yet not

Writing preface to our own demise,
Whilst the load of space around seals its binding
******* righteousness in the left & ignorance in the right

We, nature-made, we
Busy in breath and body

We, donning better halves as pelts and scarves, we
Soulless sleeves malleable in gear

We
Train people
Swaying
As does a bundle of seaweed moves about a scape of blue,
Powerless in swing

--
c

Like the Beast with his collar
Is Man with his dollar.

The collar, you see, restrains the beast
In his pursuit of a fancier feast.
The dollar, then, restrains the man
From following after his self-centered plan.

Blue collars, white collars,
Dollars dripped in red.
Which collar, for you,
Will they place around your head?

Will you be led to believe that the collar you earn
Is solely based on the knowledge you learn?
Or will you discover that the number of dollars
Determines the number and color of collars?

It is good and well to aid mankind
Upon this noble trek;
But do it for the reasons of progress and love;
And not a collar squeezing your neck.