Cursed

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Les-T

CURSED


My children are cursed
An unborn forsaken seed
Semen of the beast
With twisted tongues
And no claim to language
And 'they' ask
What they took from me
And I wrote this piece in English

My children are cursed
With fading root lines
And too much white lines
Brain washed by white lies
Propaganda in an electronic box
Subliminally fed to their minds
Through your Tel lie Vision screens
Visions scary
Future seems hurried
Of the present we are weary
And still they ask
What they took from me
And I wrote this piece in English

My children were cursed
When we traded our animal skin for cloth
Our spears for guns
Our locks for straight hair
Our rituals for sermons
With pale-faced missionaries
Masked with the black book
False prophets that civilised
‘The uncouth animals’
With false promises
At the cost of their land
And they still ask
What they took from me
And I wrote this in English

My children are cursed