Keeper ​

How can I be my brother’s keeper,
If I am yet to keep what is mine,
I find myself speaking these fouls excuses,
Saying that they are two different things,
That man shouldn’t play in sinking sand,
Where religion pushes you ten feet deep,
And politics pulls you in,
Telling you it’s your voice; adjust your body to the lies you hear
Embrace the room-less houses of your thoughts, Embark on journeys you are not prepared for,
Because religion seems to have the guidelines,
Where the fine print is written with your blood by politicians,
But you are told by your brother to be mindful of your wrongful neighbours,
And greedy eyes, who watch your every move
The same eyes that’s attached to your money,
The eyes that don’t match faces you recognise,
Oh, how your brother keeps things from you,
From arms length,
To keep you struggling,
Because cats aren’t like dogs, they haven’t learnt the art of loyalty

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