Captains and foremen, hungrily make their
Lists, of what we’re supposed to do, an
Instruction that will hit, then we sweat, to
Play, to their subpar beat, continuing to make a
Bloody street, they think that success, is good
Obedience, subliminally whipping us into
Abeyance, no such thing as an open forum,
Redo what has been said, for it’s our duty to
Do, not think, before we become the dead.