Wake up, Slave
Didn’t you realize,
That the deeper you are into hell,
The nicer it is?
The larger the open spaces
The greener the lawn
The bluer the sky
The looser the coin
Wake up, Slave
Don’t you realize,
The reason the Muzak is so deafening,
Everywhere you go?
Target
Wal-Mart
Banana Republic
Olive Garden
The Mall
It’s camouflage
For the status-quo
You should be rebelling by now
But your not
Wake up, Slave
Don’t you see,
What’s going on around you?
It doesn’t bother you
That most of you are dying
From something unknown
And incurable
That most of your children have mutated
Most of your children have autism
Most of your children are retarded
Wake up, Slave
Don’t you understand?
That the nicer it is
The more it’s going to hurt
When the trap springs shut on you
You wake up and find your foot gone
And the door closed
The lights off and utter silence
The air will smell like rotting bodies
and chemicals
And you aren’t able to move
Like I told you, Slave,
The nicer it is
The deeper in hell you truly are
Maybe you should wake up
And respond
Maybe I should just let the
Hordes of pedophiles that roam free
Take you and rape you
Maybe I should just let your government
Find you guilty and imprison you
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new