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SLAVE by Anthony Oertel

I am a slave
To the man in the grave
ďItís revenge I crave.Ē,
say the young and the brave.

Spending the best years
Wiping your motherís tears
Soothing your sisterís fears
Until the moment nears

When you have a gun in your hand.
Your future is planned.
Youíre not taking a stand
When others demand,

Itís an eye for an eye.
Do you ask why?
If you donít ask why, another will die.
Is it time for another drive-by?

You walk closer to the ride
A symbol of gang pride
The last man who sat there died
Your two worlds collide

Your conscience or the gun
Your motherís last son
The clock has begun
To stand or to run

To lock and load
Youíre at a crossroad
The clock has slowed
Courage showed

I was a slave
To the man in the grave
Then I forgave
It was my life to save