Since 12 years old I was very busy
With looking for meaning, for sense in the world,
With thought, contemplation, all those occupations
That one who has slaves can afford.
My mommy and daddy were those meant to labour,
Providing for kids, working hard
Except for occasional times of distraction
In efforts of mutual annihilation.
Whichever they chose for their self-application
Both jobs gave me freedom for thought, exploration,
There\'s only one thing that I could reproach :
My slaves set a date for their liberation.
I was 20, the void in my fridge told me I was alone.
It turned out that besides getting my education
There were other tasks to do on my own,
Without any hope for a solid foundation
Of humans designed for my exploitation.
Accustomed to having no worries of sort,
I simply ignored the grim situation,
Excepting the need for financial support
That pushed to some meager contemptible action,
I simply kept living in contemplation,
Convinced that however events ever turned,
My person will always be served.