Hope to some but not all is drive.
Drive to be better, get out.
A slave does as they are told to be,
Whenever they seem right, they are wrong.
Heads clunk and clatter at the thought,
Of staying, willing to serve.
However, it may be their truth,
But nothing stays true for long.
As they say in the north,
Move it along. And down the river you see.
The shadows of brothers gone forth,
Only to be happy and free.
Scream once to attract the heavy trotters.
Again, again to be rid the foe.
Only later will it be clear,
No one can help you,
Until you come here.