'' We'll Be Kept In Our Place '' Poem by Bri Mar

Politicians on us are a cancer,
Their title should really be chancer,
They forever forget, they place us in debt,
Then fail to provide us with an answer.

All religions represent gods,
Yet they won't say which ones are frauds,
What do I mean, as their gods can't be seen?
Who is it who rakes in their wads.

Look at the capitalist ideal,
They'd have you believe it is real,
Yet you can be sure, they look down on the poor,
They genuinely don't care how you feel.

Communism they tell you is fair,
Yet humility among leaders is rare,
While you labour, they rattle their sabre,
Of their opulence you are fully aware.

To have democracy you must be elected,
Yet the lords and the queen are selected,
You cannot deny, the whole thing's a lie,
As by us they cannot be rejected.

The gap between the poor and the rich,
Will get wider without any hitch,
Those under attack, refuse to fight back,
Life without funds is a bitch.

Inequality is a total disgrace,
In the future what will we face,
Unless we the plebs, turn into rebs,
As their slaves,

‘' We'll Be Kept In Our Place ‘'