WE, poor workers, are not THEY – the Haves, and THEY Not Like Us
these unrepentant capitalists take, from the poor tiller who does
Have-Nots count down hours, toiling for the rich in guarded towers
WE, who slave in the fields and keep the soil, are kin and brothers,
missing meals so kids can feed, as we watch their futures wither –
know burdens of fatherhood, no strangers to muffled cries of mothers
WE, who live in the bondage of corruption, marooned in a sea of pain,
dead relatives in haunted hospitals across parks where hollow promises reign –
seen aborted dreams in lacking fees, and strain in poverty’s chain
WE, who know carnage of Jua Kali days and sweat-soaked toil,
are Patriots, builders of Nations – while THEY scramble for spoils –
taxes spent on silks, cigars, chauffeured guzzlers and raucous roils.
WE, who starve under open skies, lulled by Dreams of a country free,
believe in Dictatorship of the Masses, emancipation of the worker bee.
Unlike our “masters,” who feast and deceive like bourgeois wannabes
THEY, who reel in stupor of power, seek to reap from the People’s sow,
raiding, raping, and raving – undignified in their unending Carnival row –
entrenching a kakistocracy with citizen’s rights and freedoms baked as dough
THEY, who dwell in lifted mansions, and merry on pilfered public coffers
know naught of Commoners’ struggles – WE are but subjects to gaffer.
In fancy abodes, THEY steal and deal, quelling masses by dangling offers
WE, who experience rude awakening, stocking embers of revolution,
know WE Are Not Them, neither in tribe, creed, deed, nor denomination –
THEY Not Like Us, are the blight of our existence – our Land’s Abomination.
