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    Slave Labour- A Poem


     gina1989 says:
    031-05-2006 08:43
    Shackles on his ankles,
    His hands tied up,
    He walks on up the street,
    Glass stuck in his feet.

    His face worn away,
    By the wind and the rain,
    His eyes are blank,
    He never shows pain.

    He's lost in a life,
    A life of a slave,
    His master controls him,
    To his early grave.

    He slaves way,
    He does all he can,
    His weakness shows,
    From working all day.

    All over his body,
    Are bruises and cuts,
    The story of his life,
    Ends in dust. [b]

    Comments (5)


     NightHobbit says:
    031-05-2006 09:34
    i am shocked

    a poem not written about how teenage life sucks and how they want to cut themselves over a guy/girl

    it's like i see a new found light.

     Gate_Kepper says:
    031-05-2006 11:59
    Cool poem - do ya like myne:
    He sits alone,

    Sipping his tea and staring passed the rims of his specs,

    She let him go,

    Put him out like her cigarettes,

    He walks alone,

    With a whiskey bottle between his sunken lips,

    She put him down,

    He drains the bottle; each and every sip,

    He cries alone,

    With tears pouring from his face and into his mouth,

    She killed his hope,

    And for years he blamed himself,

    He died alone,

    With no one to remember his name,

    She forgot him,

    He was not the one to blame,

    She saw his name,

    In a screwed up newspaper that blew in the sky,

    She remembered his name,

    And sang a whiskey lullaby,

     lilro says:
    031-05-2006 12:01
    nice i like it

     vaaleria says:
    003-06-2006 15:44
    i really liked your poem (gina)

    gate keeper's poem reminded me of something... wonder what it is tho

     n00blord says:
    015-06-2006 17:09

    good job! much better thaen the other crap on this form.

    i espechialy loved the first one!
     guest says:
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