Fallen stars

Hard to believe,
Stars once looked beautiful,   
Now we wear them,
like a plague.
Little men with big shoes,
Little men with loud voices,
Herd us like sheep,
Treat us as rats.
Once trains excited,
But they strike hard,
Pack us together,
Tracks lead to fire.
We're color codded,
"Usable " Little men like,
Favorite color isn't "Broken",
Little men with big guns,
Makes his least favorite bathe.
Yellow stars shower in vapors,
Only young and old stars,
stars no longer shine,
Perhaps it's a better fate.
Stars that shine work,
Are beaten down,
Live in a human cage,
Eat only scraps,
"Fail to shine we end you",
Says the one welding flame.
Some don't last long,
Little men true to word,
Thrown in ovens screaming,
Hotter than hell,
As lights fade hope too,
In this place nothing last.
Except neglect anguish,
They carry guns,
Wear big shiny boots,
Blue eyes worship our pain,
They prey to crooked red crosses,
Prey the sky without stars.
Ones too slow shot,
Thrown in piles of broken spirits,
mockingly tell dead to smile,
To forever capture death,
Being there favorite work,
Prides taken in spilled blood.
The littlest mans on top,
Hair dark like ours,
Eyes blue only difference,
Still he is better,  
With force "he is better",
He has the biggest boots,
Covered with the most blood,
For he leads this hell.