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

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