No Interpretation Required

So often have I sat in darkening shade of your abject poverty. Making me squirm for the hot warm air of freedomAlas there was never a care, more worn than the frown upon the face of a clown.The food you cry out for was not mine and wine once drunk along with bread cannot absolve. Cast my shackles aside and I will give you my answer that you have lived a lie, a blasphemy of desecration so whole so perfect Think you my life is easy?You crave a life that is not your own from the gutter would you crawl to hights were perchance you would fall.