PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Is all a lie, this form of American dream?

why did my teacher made me believe?

I could be anything I wanted to be?

Since I was a young kid I wanted to fly,

tune in to channel 9, saw super man fly,

twist metal with his hands,

so my teacher’s words I would have within my head,

grasp a cape, jump out my bed,

fell to the floor, a scar on the top of my head,

that metal piece only made my hands and wrist red,

since then I choose to have a second opinion,

slavery, conquistadors, and the government

made me open my eyes,

Dr. king said he had a dream,

his people now walk in the streets with freedom,

yet trap in mental cells,

no peace in the world,

hatred towards races is like a new taught song,

I wanted to be a form of president to change the world,

yet since I was not born in this soil,

I am rejected of my thoughts and mind,

so I can not be who I want to be,

read words of Zapata, Guevara, freedom writers,

a little bios of the black panthers,

and I want to become a free mind,

yet I would then have to worry about a government gun,

or be use as evidence of a conspiracy,

I want to be a student of knowledge with top notch skills,

yet I am refused aid for my education,

just because I was born in another so called nation,

so I am forced to either robe or steal,

be another robot to cook and grill,

so they can dine and smile

how great there stocks have grown,

eyes placed at the end of a gun,

on top of the most wanted list,

I would go trough all of these,

for at least these people

did not show me there actions in dreams,

all as one in a united voice,

revolusion, no need to serenade to a cansion,

the American dream does not exists,

so wake up and begin to do something

than just laying and dream