Victims Of SocietyA Poem by The Flawed
The dog is digging holes, to bury your bones,
And all around us there are thick grey walls.
The park is small, but the buildings are tall,
I see people marching to their graves,
In their pinstriped suits, and army boots.
We think we’re free,
But we’re in material prisons both you and me,
I guess you can call us victims of society.
Looking at you, looking at us,
Looking for trouble, making a fuss,
Looking at us, looking at them,
Looking for love, ending in pain,
Looking at you, looking at me,
You want the money and power,
I just want to be free.
Killing the creatures killing our selves,
Who do we think we are, it makes no sense.
The iron curtain, the red flag and the bold eagle,
Are flying out of control,
I think it’s time they fall,
Before they burn and destroy us all.
Looking at them, looking at me,
It makes me mad they’re f*****g crazy.
Pay your taxes cause you’re breathing air
Work like a dog but make sure you pay
Paying taxes make it roll
The walls get higher, but the parks stay small,
You and me, Ha, we just get poor
And not before long, creep into our own little hole.
© 2009 The FlawedFeatured Review
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Added on August 4, 2009AuthorThe FlawedNearbyAboutI am a man who loves writing poetry, and find it the easiest way of expressing how I feel, particularly when I dont like to talk about these feelings. I cannot .. more..Writing
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