Query any poem you want.

Obscure, drawn, demented

With mouths agape

We blend in wishing to stand out

The mop that sloshes

Keeps us clean

But below its dark and dingy

Our screams of pain

Aching to be heard

Are masked by the ever shiny wax

Too long have the feet of oppressors trodden us down

The scuffs that scar these weary forms

But the day has come

Voice has reached the mouthing

The trapped are breaking free

Too long unheard, too long absurd

Now we stand on high

Our feet on even ground

No boot shall ever again trod us down