We are the dead
We are the dead
the waste product in the eyes of society
we are the shadows, overlooked by the majority
we are the vitims, murdered by the law
when we cry out, backs are turned
eyes are blind and mouths muted
We are the dogs of humanity
all the powers extracted by our drudgery
It does not matter, the things we say
as long as we are the dead
This poem is about:
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world