Codes bode mechanical roles,
On human souls,
A road that promised rainbows,
And virtues that once showed,
A flow of dough,
That made social control,
More comfortable.
That was until,
Everything fell all to hell.
One by one like dominoes.
Poor little dolls.
Trying for survival.
Yet for yrs yawl been in denial.
So, forgive me if I,
Don’t care about tears from a crocodile.
That transformed beautiful lands,
To wastelands.
That set up rules that put vatos in jail.
Without fair trials.
As the poor become corpse piles.
A vile stench trails.
But will never be inhaled.
By those who prevail.
A statement that is like a nail.
Being put into a coffin.
Isn’t humanity something?
Instead of reflection,
Or reconciliation.
History becomes like young padawans,
Facing off against Anakin.
Where truth becomes fairytales,
From once upon.
A time where superior specimens.
Overcame the savage ones.
Wondering what hill I’ll die on,
Will I end up in hell or in Zion?
Sometimes I feel like a who,
Only heard by Horton.
And I ain’t talking about Tim.
For my people’s lands,
Have been invaded by zim.
Yet we are the ones treated as aliens.
And unlike like a roll up the rim.
There is no please play again.
****.
Never trust a clown,
Especially if they wear a crown,
Why stick with milk,
When you could have the cow.
Why share the land,
When you could steal the oil.
Set the hen house on fire,
And watch as things go afowl.
Wondering who’s next,
Better ask the owl.
As they can see the evil in the eel,
That try to distract people,
With their promises and ideals.
But actually bring woe.
They say you reap what you sow,
So, be careful what you grow.
For bitterness is like a poison pill.
That spoils our fill.
Teach a white man to fish,
And for generations blood will spill.
As a sour sorrow echoes through the ville.
But is quickly dismissed.
That makes one wish,
Our voices could be taken as serious as,
A siege on Capitol Hill.
