A sevant, A slave
A peasant, A nave
Walked over, Beaten and hurt
Snobbed at, And treated like dirt
To shy and scared, To fight back
To weak to refuse, To slack
A perfect peon, A welcomed slave
The one whom for, No tears were shed
Molested and attacked, Starved and bled
He dies alone, And no one cries
All because, Of societies lies
Amber Sheridan 7~25~2003