A Bob Marley Type Of Mood

   Father,
   Why have you forsaken me?
   Abandoned in the wasteland of my life
   Left to search for substance in an empty land
   A land filled with the propaganda of your false profits
   All so that they might increase the profits in their pockets
   White picket profits
   With deep pockets
   Spew their sewer propaganda
   Poisoning the ocean of the masses
   Picking people apart
   Picking ME apart
   Picking apart my art
   Saying I’m possessed
   Saying “I’m not impressed”
   I don’t give a fuck if your impressed
   And maybe I am possessed
   Not by demons or devils
   But by sense
   I am a living protest
   I can not be pacified by
   False profits with deep pockets
   We are not commodities to
   Be bought and sold
   It doesn’t matter how many times we are told
   We will overcome
   I will carry the flag into battle
   We will rage!
   We will rage against the dieing of the light!