In America,
When we fall, we don’t recover.
We grow weaker, while they grow ever stronger.
With not a penny to our name, we suffer in the streets.
But they continue to live like kings.
We, born into Hell on earth, must work in the factories
Those dark, dank, dangerous, and desolate factories
As they use us to give them more money.
However,
We don’t need to be poor forever.
We can rise and live like kings too.
And as we rise, they can fall,
And once they fall, they’re in our old place.
it seems like the world is falling apart at the seams that were sewn so jaggedly in the first place. we know that oppression is amplified during a recession but how heartless are you to ignore the mur
Remembrance They come and go, Time and time again, No matter what I do, I always lose a friend. Through deserts and tundras, Snow and rain, I feel the blood throughout my heart leak from out my veins.
Is Our Philadelphia Really OUR Philadelphia Laila Johnson North, South, East, West We are all from Philly But we try to see who’s got it the best What y’all don’t understand Is that we all are oppress
