Slavery Poem by Kevin Maroney

Not a matter of the color
But a matter of the Mind.
Diseased, it seeds
many small rinds.
He pleads
Not
Rather accept and get in lines.
As known as torture,
warped in their personality.
None.
Evermore
believe in what the
Gibbering Monstrosity has
Told them
To keep them in line.
Let them be chewed to
Gooey, Chewy pieces
In its unwashed mouth.
Crushed underfoot by the
Societal
Abomination, made and kept in order
from thousands of others.
Kept in maintenance and allowed existence
By acceptance, Ignorance, and Oblivity.