The chains are holding me to my work
The whip comes across my back.
I was told that I can live without chains
But I like the whip.
Brutus is my leader
A man for all seasons he stands before me with drink in hand
Allowing me the joy of drinking.
To wander aimlessly across the desert
Like so many other men do.
I don’t understand.
Where is there leader?
Who holds there cup of water and food.
Who tells them when to excrete?
They wander the desert like animals.
I pity them they have no point.
Today Brutus fell
Another was after freedom.
I bashed in his skull.
I do not know what will happen to me.
Perhaps I will taste freedom after all.
Death may it bring
A contest entry
- ....prewrites now allowed (I want it all) by IamRemy.
550 points, ended October 2, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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