media manipulation

Pardon for our Crimes


Don’t tell us what to say; we know what to do,


Voting for a criminal to slide in snake boots,


Your hissing and reprobation makes to silence debate,


No offering for a solution,


Creating problems, dressed in the art of rhetoric.


The word is that the war is left with right,


I’m ambidextrous and ambivalent,


With a mouth sewn shut, so I start a bonfire.




No lies can derail us,


A puppet’s wires spun, and spun.


Convince us of your reason; cannibals of national pride.


We work until our tendons become unravelled,


Victims of legislation, but our rights are read to us, forced to abide,


We seek shelter, but you offer a mass-produced following,


Your factory is industrial; we escape on digital enterprise,


The truth is what is mine is yours;


A criminal in a suit profits more that you, or I.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Old world poltics are falling apart. Left VS Right no longer applies - people's minds have expanded, information increased widespread. They're not serving their country, just wrestling to get back control.

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Installed Perception

My style is real life but you ain't gotta make a choice,

I'm shading in the blanks with the sound of my voice,

I speak on some real shit, not just boasting about dollars,

letting loose some stories about the blue collars.

This ones for the people punching the clock twice a day,

barely sliding by from there measly ass pay,

hardworking motherfuckers who deserve another raise,

who get talked down to and deal with it anyway.

Cuz they know no other way, they all got plenty to say,

on holidays theyre working cuz the bills force them to stay.

They make this world tick but somehow go unnoticed,

I'll give you some facts in case you didn't know this,

this world likes to glorify the rich and the famous,

it's all over TV our whole lives can you blame us?

For wantin to grow up and live like a baller,

we believed money brought  happiness and shrunk problems smaller, but some lessons can only be learned with experience,

your advice to me will hardly ever make sense,

until I go through it and afterwards shake my head,

if I would have just listened to what my parents said.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hit me with some feedback if you have any, thanks!!

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Yo Bitches, I Am Trayvon

Yo bitches, I am Trayvon--
Ranting and raving
Like Jackson and Sharpton
From dawn until night.

Yo bitches, I am Trayvon--
A brand and a label, a cause
To uphold at some rich folks’ table
Like Joseph Kony and the black

I’m a trademark of a
Grief-stricken mother,
I’m your son, your sister,
Your brother--
I’m your saint, your thug
And a lie.

I’m a whore of a sly politician,
I’m a martyr of a self-serving mission--
I’m the story that keeps you alive.

Yes, I am Trayvon--
Your vote, your profit
I’m your muse, your product, your coffin--
I’m whatever you want me to be.

And when you’re done,
You’ll find another
To make a monster
Or an innocent brother--
Because in each case
It is all black and white.

March 27, 2012
--Alexander Shaumyan