Your System

Shackle me,
cuff me

I’m far away without a soul that cares.

I sleep at night with a stomach that starves,
I have no pillow—
my tears are my pillow
and
my arms are my blanket.

I set my mind to think
but my soul hungers for
Freedom.

I sleep and walk
on a land where
man respects only
violence and
kills the righteous,

so at night I get on my knees
and pray
to the Most High
which is my Lord that protects me with his hands.

How long will I suffer?
I don’t know, but
I ask the Lord for an answer.

I work hard and sweat like a slave but
in this lifetime that I live in
my master doesn’t spunk me

Instead he locks me
in a cell and
prays my conscience kills me.

When someone is locked in that cell
he or she says to themselves--
I have nothing to live for--
then a precious life is taken away.

You shackled me!
You cuffed me!
You buried the key.
You feed me food
as if I was a dog.
You put me in showers
with the same sex
as I.

Why do you display hatred
when I look into your eyes?

Why do you speak to me as if I’m not a man?

All these questions I ask.

Do you have an answer?

Because
you shackled me and
cuffed me and
made me your slave.

The difficulties of prison life as well as street life are graphically described here. No comment seems to be required.