Break the gaze on wounded knee;
apartheid sentiments are born.
The funny part — to think we’re free
while, subconsciously, the world scorns.
In smoky mists among the sand,
in violent jungles far away,
no matter where the peace is planned,
the hand of man will stay the way.
The fear as hard as rock and stone
when one awakes and looks around:
the gentle zombies on the phone,
walking free, but walking bound.
Knowledge, labeled as a power —
irony is felt in force
when bullets rain from guarded towers:
the true master is at its source.
author’s noteNIN-Meet Your Master