To all of the oppressed:
We are the people whose names you don’t hear,
Crawling between the cracks in a place you don’t see,
Scrabbling and scratching just to get by,
We were like you once,
Happy and safe,
But little did we know that security was at the expense of others,
Ironic isn’t it?
To sink to the ground that we used to step on everyday,
Without a second thought,
Who knew that ground was composed of souls,
Abandoned by the system?
I can see your future home too,
It’s six feet deep,
But there are no flowers,
Nobody mourns for people they can’t see.
They say you don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it,
Maybe they were onto something,
You never know that you live and breathe the system,
Until it pulls the plug on you.
I wish I could say this was avoidable,
That you could have escaped their twisted life support,
But you were born to the system,
In that very hospital.
There’s no going back through those gates now,
At least not on your terms,
The system doesn’t like to go out if its way,
To lift you out of the mud.
Only you can pull yourself from this nightmare,
Expect no welfare,
And know that their sharpest barbs,
Are reserved for you.
That being said,
Hope is far from lost,
You learn a lot about how to survive,
When you’re down this low,
So chin up solider,
You were destined for things greater than them,
That’s why they tried to hold you under,
But we all know what wings are for, don’t we?