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Eight Slices

Where do we stand?
How did we fall?
Do we have any rights, at all?
Where is Justice?
Is it 6 feet under ground?
Or exist only, never to be found?
Can we reach for the stars, up in the sky?
Where does our dreams and hopes, lie?
Shall we always struggle or just give up?
Are we worthy to drink, from success's cup?
May I have a piece of pie with my drink?
Don't want to take over, I want to get paid, to think.
What's in it for me? Who am I?
Don't stop me from getting a piece of the American Pie.
There's Eight Slices, 3 for the Red, White and Blue,
five for Yellow, Green, Brown, Purple, and Black too.
It's primary and Eight Slices, enough for all to eat,
Will the struggle end, before we all go to sleep?
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Poetry.com 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Ziggy MD More than 1 year ago
Ed C More than 1 year ago
Good job
Cornell Mack More than 1 year ago
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