The Proletariat

Give me your ears.
It seems the so called
Callous human beings
Have developed meteoric ideas
To make their vicinity
Spic and span.
Connotatively, that is starvation,
Hunger, poverty …
We would become vagrants.

For how long
Are we going to suffer
The wrath of human?
Their food,
They refuse to share with us.
Even the remnants,
To us, they can’t give.
Every morning, scavengers are paid
To consume their mountain of refuse.
All of these because of us.

Get ready, it is war.
They seem more mortal
Than we ever thought.
They breathe, so do we.
Their giant feet are no threat to us.
By dark, we march out in mass.
Unanimously, our valiancy is uncontested.
Peacefully, we would attack.
Before they retaliate, we are already away.

by Lekan Malik

Other poems of MALIK (29)

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