Monday, June 25, 2012


Our Christmas never sings any carols,
Birthdays now the worst days never blow any candles,
Nothing seems to grow besides the anger,
Hard times quickly turn a family member into a stranger,
Love is scarce like money, for too many souls are poor at heart,
Scavenging for the ‘green paper’ willing to watch families fall apart,
Who do we run too? We are just Kings of sorrow,

Uncertainties of our existence are reflected in schools,
Sponge-like bodies filled with inebriation nurture carrions of fools,
And you wonder why our grave yard never seems to have an end?,
Mother earth bleeds from disrespect and she swells into hills of sand,
For silver and gold her children are ripe for destruction,
Hypnotized by the wand of foreign currency sleep walking to destruction,
Kings of sorrow conceived without a future or a tomorrow,

The day, when he comes, is teemed with corruption and depravity,
His image on public walls a painful reminder of our captivity,
Pot-bellied man rally behind him with their semi-literate media,
The hands that crown their laurels puppet with no idea,
Military minded hovering over the youths like an evil spirit,
Their foul breath of infidelity oozing serpently from the pulpit
You call him a Black Hitler, you hypocritical Kings of sorrow.

Kings of Sorrow, Kings of Sorrow, cursed from the semen,
Born to this grave yard morass of a situation,
The pang of the cradle robber our first sensation
At the mercy of your wrath we wait, AMEN.