Destiny Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Early rise, our day starts, the crack of the dawn comes, having a notion, the preparations we make for work, into labor, clocking set hours for a did ration, being at a station; trying efforts to aid our nation's services..

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

The dawn acts passing, endured by us, spent a day at work filling hours, to sway the chilling actions measured, given duties we do, 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, take strides that are in danger, make an enormous effort, be given side tasks for more cash, try labor to cope with a ride, push to slide; it's just a little bit: a moving item.

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

All these people, facing labor-sold tarts, had a hard occurrence, twirl folks, as 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.