Story of the feeble people
Buried alive and left to die. Eaten alive and I seen several smiles. Mutilated and drown by frowns that were sewn on the faces of clowns. We were all decimated and desecrated on the alter called life. Sewed in smile and force laughter tickles the underbelly of the fat cat gorging on the blood of lifeless men. Tickled me sweetly with trumpet of batter women piling up at the foot of heartless men. These simple children wailing behind the door as the inferno burn off their skin. Tell me there is a hero to save the lives of these fat cats stacking cash in the throats of fat glutton pigs. With crippled hands and withered bones, hoist up the morbid obese piece of shit into the air then call it a god. Banished into a state of hallucinogenic terror then fool me to believe I am free. Strip me of my person-hood and leave me naked in front of the prying eyes of hungry men. Paint and define me as a slut all because I was born with the wrong color skin. In a world where...wrong...in a society that already crucified me long before I came into this world. I was painted as a menace flopping around in the core of the rich. Rich in impoverishment and lacking the chance to taste even an ounce of wealth. My hungry belly bellows and rattles my core until it brings me onto my knees. Bent over and screwed over by misery and produce poverty babies then I was told to survey. I was force to eat a grain and told to be satisfy. I was seen as a have not. We the have not were never glorified. Gorge on by the glutton and greed our well is drain dried. The tear-less worn out man stands in the mites of the blaze glaring outward from within the ghetto.