i entered this poem into a contest and now its gonna be published
By Levi LaFonte
Society, in which we partake, is nothing more than a fake.
On the surface itís all nice, but underneath thereís no rice
to feed the kids who others buy, we all know it --donít deny
that there is a hidden haunt and all we can think of is what we want?
Sure Iíd like a million dollars, but Iíd prefer to see millions holler.
Better yet to see them act, to help change that thereís a fact
that thereís no meat, for the boy with no feet,
blown off by a bomb, like the one that killed his mom
Ďcause his family went against the say, of one of many corrupt governments today,
who steal their peopleís food away, and use it to buy guns for another day --
to keep the people under oppression, a constant supply of depression.
And all we can think of is what we want, maybe some shoes from a sweat shop
that a six-year-old child made, only to be under paid.
When the people become defiant, the governmentís soldiers will keep them quiet.
When youíre done reading this poem, you may decide against its tone,
Forget about the hidden haunt, and go back to thinking of what you want.