Slavery as the kids say, is like a parent.
Although this word has become harsh and unforgiving,
It’s the backbone to many leaders’ rule.
We want as we wish and soon regret,
While parents know best.
If we do as they say and make no fuss they reward us.
We can travel and eat and play as we like,
Yet nothing is forever.
We can still rebel and get into fights,
Honesty is the best policy,
But if we are bad we lose what we like.
And so… Did we ever have any of it?
Or was is all theirs to give and take from us
As a way to create the type of person they want us to be,
So they may live their lives happily.
The master would yell,
And we’d fall in line,
As to not get a whipping.
Serving their household as if a religion.
We learned quickly not to trust and look out only for us.
However, some days were better than others,
We’d get all that we wished we believed we deserved.
To find it’s taken and beaten to a pulp.
They give to the lucky,
While drive hope from the poor.
We sing our beaten slave songs and wish for a door,
Out of this horrid backward place.
Only to find there is only more.
Parents may yell and scream.
But their love grows stronger all the time.
Masters’ hearts grow dark with power,
Only to ooze out into more crime.
To treat an equal as if less,
Is to be threatened by the best.