Original poetry: A call for freedom

How did it come to this,

Every little thing we do is wrong.

Always trying to please but,

Losing all hope of ever gaining.

The respect due to us from our

Peers and so called bosses.

Soaring free.
Soaring free.

Help we scream ,

As we drown in the minute of

Needless rules and,

Discouraging commands barked at us from

Self satisfied "little Hitlers."

'Arses' we call them behind their

Fat ... wads of notes and tests,

Evaluating everything we do.

They will never win our souls that

Yearn for FREEDOM.

Comments 2 comments

Winsome profile image

Winsome 5 years ago from Southern California by way of Texas

Nicely done...and a mnemonic too! =:)


marstoblog profile image

marstoblog 5 years ago from Hitchin, England Author

Thank you very much this did take some time so I'm very glad you appreciate it!

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