The Truth in a Jar of Snakes
The path to success is littered
by broken pieces of manhood
trampled on by fellow men's heels
in a rush to catch sight of coins
as they raise to the top.
Man was never taught to stop
and share with his brother;
they breed him to smother
all others to reach his destiny.
These streets are covered in tears
of young men bleeding hopes
and dreams on this canvas of a nation
ruled by those foreign to starvation,
assisted by a capitalistic religion.
the words spoken in the pulpit
are no longer worth it's sanctity.
Maybe it's blasphemy that leads
to a heart that questions.
The truth is a jar of snakes.
Time and again we expect change,
freedom is now the beautiful cage
constructed by pawns on a board,
placed to serve their master's word.
As we keep sipping from our arrogance,
addicted to the taste of ignorance.
This slow descent into ignominy.
Hospital beds are shared,
as if the patient are a poor man's child
lain on a crampled bed
wrapped in the pangs of hunger
invisible to hands of the puppeteer
as he crushes the dreams of his subjects
to the loud cheers of gullible masses.
Truth is naked,
but we remain blind to it's nudity.
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