Something? Finally?

I cannot understand for the life of me, why people with alot of money look down on the less fortunate. They focus on material things (usually expensive) and they believe that by having these material things, they are above everyone else. There is a beauty beyond the senses. Beauty like the quiet of green valleys and still waters. Beauty of the spirit that they wouldn't understand.

My family however, we are just barely getting by. Day after day, year after year, century after century, bondage without rest, coil without reward, we are the children of misery, the afflicted, and the oppressed. the rich are the high class, have everything handed to them, never have to work for it. God made men, and gave them dominion over all things on earth. In today's life, the weak are made to serve the strong. The conquered are made to serve the conquerors.

He gave them also, the power to choose between good and evil. In my eyes, i see the evil that man should turn their people into beasts of burden, to slave and suffer in anguish , to be stripped of spirit, hope, and faith. Only because we are of a different race, a different creed, and a poor family. If there is a God, he did not mean this to be so.

The government makes laws that they believe are correct. But they arent. Millions of people sick, starving, and even dying, beacause they have no money to provide for themselves. Man should be ruled by law, not the will of other men. May the hand of God strike them, they rot our bodies, steal hope from our souls, we are not animals, we are humans, made in the image of god.


All the girls who have money, are like jewels, A jewel has brilliant fire, but it gives no warmth. They drive expensive cars, wear expensive clothes, jewelry, get expensive manicures and pediures, etc. and look down on other girls. My hands are not so soft, but they can serve. My body not so white, but it is strong. My lips are not perfumed, but they speak the truth. Love is not an art to me; it’s life to me. i am not dressed in gold and fine linen. Strength and honor are my clothing. My house is not the columned halls of Egypt, but my children will play happily before it. i can offer you little, but i offer all i have.

I can neither bless nor curse this power that moves me, for i do not know from where it comes. Each night brings the black embrace of loneliness, in the mocking whisper of the wind i hear the ehoing voies of the dark.