Destiny Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Early at sunrise, our day starts, comes the crack of the dawn, notions having, for work, we make the preparations, clocking into labor, setting hours for obtaining rations, being at a station; trying endeavors to aid our nation's services.

People actions to band, then join in smaller groups, illustrate low slaves, under this stern rule, peer by a cat's eye, by its owner, see a rat's tail, not like us dummies, trim figures, we're in the sun's heat, striking our bones, working; to dry folks: bat's skin.

The dawn passing acts, endured by us, at work filling hours spent a day, sway the chilling actions measured, allowing duties we do, in hot sun, many moments, no freezing bang, hit any of us, rise higher; a fresh new dawn bright: it is today.

These souls are guided to build a structure, be given side tasks for more cash, make enormous efforts, take strides that are in danger, try labor to cope with a ride, push to slide; it's just a little bit: a moving item.

This dusty trip, pitted deep in a sand band, is upon the vast land, its held temperament gasps, grips its load, with hands shaking curling, shoves granite in dust, pity I destiny; these beings that are there.

All these people, facing labor-sold tarts, had a hard occurrence, twirl folks, tiny darts, sightless owner's law confront, replaceable all, held total value, as used parts, said the final tallies.

We, at work, recall a fit this mount placement, directs high a not ball upwards, team actions by, it's a boulder, lift a gigantic rock up; balance fully: to equal a flat wall.

Folks, in a heavy block endeavor, crossing a landscape, to dock, fit it, in a pit, by man's power, higher to lock stones a height it is one level, its ruler; being all paid to set this rock: on a pyramid.