when i walk i feel like exposed <br />for the horde of filthy goats <br />feel like a slave examined by a lewd <br />and disgusting eager brute <br /> <br />i know they stare at my trot <br />a slave probably worth being bought <br />a body ready to be used <br />designed for anything you choose <br /> <br />and i scream <br />yell them go from me <br />but they gather round me <br />getting firmer hold on me <br />i hate the slavery <br /> <br />oh how i hate this dismal place <br />salivary mouths pressed against my face <br />fat hands stroking and pinching my flesh <br />and greed and sweat dripping on my head <br /> <br />fascinated with my walk <br />they stare at me block after block <br />and i shake with useless wrath <br />they want to have me or kill me or both <br /> <br />and i scream in the street <br />yell them go from me <br />but they strangle me <br />getting firmer hold on me <br />i hate the slavery<br /><br />Max Kuvaev<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slavery-4/
