Breathe in the cars fumes.
What is freedom?1
Listen to the drunks,
Driving to their doom.2
This concrete jungle,
With its predators;
Who are so much worse than those
That roamed at the world's begining.3
Fear blackened allies,
Stray prostitutes,
And the men who work at Sweet Sally's.4
Trapped, from the outside in.
When does my freedom begin?5
This concrete is my curse.
Yet this iron is what forged my birth.6
We are metal made men,
We know no freedom,
We are not human,
For we do not seek,
We do not create,
But we thoughtlessly speak.7
We are lead,
When we do not mean to follow.8
Without a head,
the body could not swallow.
So I'd rather choke.9
Because I can see all we really need,
Is to find ourselves in a new life.10
May we find the knowledge to do so,
and plant its seed.11
A contest entry
- Your Best Poetry. by tsh369.
175 points, ended November 5, 34 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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that we live the kind of life we get to live? quite true! even if we work for a change , we can't change the fate of all lives . there are slots for all kind of work in the society , and people fill them to earn their bread everyday , and to fulfil our needs in turn .
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