She hangs upon the ladder, looking out on all of her glorious creations,
This sun that beats down upon her, she cringes at the pain of it,
Stinging sweat slides all along the sides of her face of newborn nation
Grand things she has promised, although she would build a monument
To honour the dead who fought valiantly to protect their land,
Their new found supposed right to enslave.
And also don't forget their brave new world of uneducated
******, all-in-the family goodness, "un-needed" liberation of
Innocent blacks. Those unlawful ne'er do wells! She would fight
To keep them all to herself and her bidding, even to the grave!

*While in truth they have not committed any absolute crimes,
Like their ancestors-nor any reason why they are doing hard time.

They march to the beat of the drum
they run when their leaders tell them to walk
they compromise when their leaders tell them to
even if it means they behave like robots
they choose to be free when they know they are slaves
thinking the world belongs to them
when really it belongs to their masters
when really their masters have enslaved them with chains
that are invisible to them
but are made of iron
but the scariest thing is
when they look into a mirror and see their reflection
they are not made of metal
their blood is red, their skin made of dust
each of the robots looks like either
you or me.

Of course we no longer have colonial masters,
But clearly we're still enslaved
Enslaved by our own bodies,
Our souls cry out,
They yearn to do what's right;
That which will keep them at peace,
Until we decide to **** our own conscience,
The body has enslaved the real us;the soul,
And we are the reasons for that because we allow it.
And the only way out is self control..

(meaning: wisdom that is incomprehensible to one of ordinary understanding or knowledge)

Alone, let me dissolve into the stale persistence of repeated memory, where,
to sink, into that moment, long at last, I will;
to time that stained my white and holy life like thick excreted waste,
as lost among the black apostles, self detest infection festered.
My soul did roast my psyche.

Let me watch through wiser eyes as I was suckled dry by rogues and devilled men who
fed me lies and praised degraded hopes in tight knit ******* ropes and
prayed their symbiotic futures whole;
their shackled lives, encased by squalid dwellings, ***** to empty, burnt to coals. Then,

let me fear again the death I cheated, let me shy away again from light and love,
as once I did,
and let the drugs inspire hunger, let my ribs admonish friendships;
show me seated on the sharpened iron throne that clawed its way into my life.

Let me remember courage, this, when biting clean the straps
that bent my arms behind my back,
that tied my feet without allowing slack, that stole my mind, that seared my life,
that scarred my flesh and sent me running, set me free at last
from final unforgiving seas that tempted me with futile guarantee
to nurture, care and carry me.

Let me, lastly, naked, stand in stark surrender, found by precious realisation.
Finally human once again! Majestic once again! While
chains of brutal, rusty, rotted steel detach,
and I begin to heal; to patch at last, my puzzled life that, muzzled,
once,
I hanged among
such sordid ruin.
Now a sequined future wheel rotates as I transition
from a past so art surreal,
so **** unreal,
and yet, a history, sad, but passed, that’s mine, alone to boldly feel.

Don't push them
You're moulding them instead of letting them flow
You're stunning their movement, you're not letting them grow

I like being pushed
I am superior and better than my peers
They've taken over my body and they are the ones who steer

Is this wrong?
Is this right?
Is this my desired flight
The Devils are pitched on both shoulders
I can't take over until I've grown older

She gives everything he wants,
in the name of love.