They don’t care believe me
You may scream but they can’t let you live free
If they hear sound of your crushing bones
It’s when they put on their ear phones
They can’t even nurse your deep wound
Your oozing blood makes them feel good
Cry, but your tears will just fill their tumblers
As they drink your tears, never stretch your hand near them, they become furious
They’ll cut it off and make food for their dogs
They don’t care, they sold their senses to hogs
Don’t ask why their fingers are long, never think they’re used as a fork
Cry for your coffers.
They don’t care believe me!
They don’t care, never say I never told you
Fight hard! Use your own efforts to sail through, that’s the survival clue

2015/Christopher E. Loti