I wrote this poem decrying the economic plight that many of us experience at some point in our lives. For me, it's become somewhat of a passion of mine. I grew up with people around me preach this or that as the answer to all life's dilemmas. Yet, they never seemed free to me, but just a different type of slave believing one day to become a millionaire. Will we ever escape this rat race? Click the read more link to check it out.
Many claim freedom
Yet remain slaves to they money mislead'in
Victim to an economic condition,
with no hope of redemption.
Chained and shackled by a dead end job
Until the end is dead
A means to an end, spending their ends
To relieve the guilt from their sins
But sex, drugs, n' kill'in
Ain't worth more than true liv'in
Businessman, boxer, or poet
All I really want is to show it
To parade on stage my inner rage
Over this minimum wage
But who will even listen?
I'm just a man wish'in.
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