PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Like dogs we fall in the cold pavement,

that becomes our bed,

but we happy cause at least we have a place to rest,

when we alive we ponder about,

we see them happy,

acres of sweet bread and cotton,

we having weeks not even a drink of water,

they still dont give a fuck about us,

we bleed and sweat so hard for a piece of bread,

we wake up when the sunrise and come home until the sun sets, we give them more money and they still complain,

we dream of a day where at least they say ok,

the race do support this lying land,

but they still dont give a fuck about us,

the land of the free,

I guess not cause we struggle through life

and we see no help,

we have to live on the hills to get a helping hand,

they blast a homie up,

mothers getting sick,

in that white colored building,

only the color form the outside,

we cant make the payment they rather keep us there and die, they dont give a fuck about us,

we help the state be stable and economical growth

they show in charts, yet still they dont give a fuck,

the sweat, the blood, the labor, the creations,

nothing in the matter,

they create in a chair they sit down,

while we are still forming this great country

with sweet and tears, but in the end is all the same,

we are viewed as outlaws and criminals,

they dont understand we just try to make a life,

but they pull our good views away so what can we do,

but shed more tears, spilled more blood,

and hopefully one day they can care about the labor race

-che