For The World's One Percent…

Look at me, look me in the eye
I'm the child with skin like coal
With a hungry vulture waiting behind me
And no one to stand beside me
Take my picture show it to your people
As they drink whisky, tell them we're equal
Tell them I died for their diamonds

Look at me, look me in the eye
I'm the child that worked at that scrap yard
Where ships come to die
I'm the child that died on the rust of a wreck
Cheap hands, no shoes, no parents left
Somewhere in Asia, where the sun first rises
Somewhere far from you, a life theft

Look at me, look me in the eye,
I'm the child drown in the Aegean Sea
For your wars made me a refugee
I'm the girl chained to slavery
Next to your guns, drugs and ivory
I'm the tribe vanished for gold, oil and harvest
I guess being humane is the hardest

Look at me, look me in the eye,
I'm the child that worked for you
I'm the cheap hands you asked,
The one behind your company's mask
I'm the child that died out of hunger
I'm the mother who can't hold her anger
I'm the father who works each day
I'm the soldier who'll no longer obey
I'm all the lives you've stolen
I'm the people having no more to spend
For the world's one percent

by Aphrodite Anastasia Menegaki

Comments (3)

Terry, great poem. Terrific structure and expression, a wonderful reworking of the hero and the bully tale. The inclusion of the counterpoint of an angel (and possible demon/devil) in the bully, waging that eternal war -of balance of good and evil, added a deeper subtext to a scenario that could stand on its own, but was made richer by the inclusion. Funny and clever, the ending reminded me of those tough irish priests that preached god's message with the bible in one hand and a good right (or left) hook waiting in the other. cheers, Terry Manns
eh whit man, yer poems pure shite by the way, compaired tae William Wordsworth oanyways. ken whit a mean like? aye man, so get it up ye, ya dober! ! pure mental, stinkin quality man, heh heh heh. *laughs like a non educated delinquent*
I really like this poem