Slaves

As we fall slave to the Illuminati, how dare I say thee, so they chain me, slave me, but I still write in spite of what they might say, or if they may take my freedom away, I write for the youth, for the lost, for the damned, the sickened, the scammed, cos he is raising an army, but I stand before thee with my pen and my pad, quiver while my right hand shivers while writing vigorously, and spontaneously coming up with thoughts and actions that can help separate me from the beast, they feast on the weak, corporate giants stealing the passion from the soul, keeping us half so we will never discover we are whole, soul trapped and locked, invisible box, mental locks, like marx said; slavery is not dead, it just grew another head, named itself a JOB, instead of following our passion, they kill Christ while we gradually develop vices to spice up our life, we close our eyes, fall into a trance at night, the following day is just another replay, another week, another month, every second our life is gone, dwindles while spending on little things that mean little to nothing, sending subliminal minimal messages through TV ads, they should go to jail for their criminal acts, but they pay the heads of state, forget the tax.

Inspired by: http://www.everypoet.net/poetry/blogs/kathy_paysen/seeds_of_nightmares#comment-63616