Venom Spitters

In the memory of my dad,
He who fought a faulty battle,
In the name of defending his people from the neighbors,
He took oath of allegiance to the gang,
The gang funded by the mafia,
The mafia that wanted the Boss in office,
The Boss whose brilliance was ignition and incite.
Ignition and incite that washed the soil with blood,
Messed the air with smoke,
And made the scrap metal business flourish.

That venomous spit by the Boss and his cohorts,
Made us have death for a daily bread,
Injuries a luxury,
Looting a fun,
Maiming a game,
And heartless a trait,
That saw our senses made wild,
Our actions stupidly bold,
We were more than animals,
Cannibals that needed salvation.

Our sisters drowned their virginity for food,
Our mothers betrayed their vows to see kids get the basics,
Our friends and relatives,
Showed us the other side,
That animals and human are close,
Our spirits were weakened,
And yet the Boss and his cohorts,
Watched us on television,
Made promises to us,
With their venomous spit,
That saw us split,
We listened keenly,
Ready to rebuild,
And like warthogs,
We followed sheepishly,
Thanks to shallow mindedness,
We...

If we'll fall,
And fail,
To see beyond the venomous spit,
History is ready to recur,
And ours will be unending pain,
As Boss and cohorts,
Watch over our woes.

#Nomys_Madness