these arms were factory employed, valued for the tools and the time i’m expending. these arms are subject to want, toil if your need’s worth the trouble in bending—depending. these arms aren’t satisfied with your ineffectual life. they want the honest hands, the calluses and pride. my opportunity to work and affect change from the inside, i will always try. in this life, we’ll never own a home—black eyes—we’re allies in these downtrodden times. realize no matter what or how they victimize, they can’t make me feel worthless. i’m not perfect but i have a purpose. our lives, our vengeance, our hearts make all the difference. the seized land and our vacated homes—black eyes. our lives, our vengeance. through dread, through pretext. the odds are insurmountable—black eyes. our lives, our vengeance. not wealth, not privilege. we’re deprived and underutilized—black eyes. our lives, our vengeance, our hearts will make a difference for the betterment of all.
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