Slave till the grave

I’ve been trying to self actualize,

To leave this grave and arise,

To sever these ancient ties,

To claim life’s true prize,

But on me I feel their eyes —

They remind me of the life money buys —

But is it worth it if my soul dies?

They take me to their house and say, “Look at the size,”

But they cannot peel my eyes, they’re fixed on the skies —

Why is my heart something I cannot commoditize?


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