THE POLE STAR (ORIGINAL POEM)

In this really, so cruel world exists such a mess,
we are just the figures on a board for chess ...
And, we look even worse than a dead flower,
they are after us, they rule with such a power ...
And, we live in fear, and we are so, so scared,
we do not know the plans, we are not prepared ...
They do not care for us, we are just the numbers
and they are enjoying in the peaceful slumbers ...
Ah, yes, every day we work to get some food,
and three weeks per year in a holiday mood ...
They sell us the illusions, ideals and dreams,
in the sky the Pole Star at nights still gleams ...