They move on daily, tired feet -
going thru' motions like a fleet.
Their life like ants of utmost pity -
those small people of such a big city.
They are of shades in dark and brown -
while the whites look upon with a frown.
Work all day long, no food is served!
Your blood doesn't boil? Unnerved?
Glide thru', follow your dream -
now can one kill a joyful stream?
From your palaces look at the slums -
revolt is stewing like beating of drums.
Hold up the torch, join your arms -
raze to the ground those Devil's farms.
They who killed you in your houses -
will now scream when vengeance arouses.
Now they move with jubilant feet -
living life in every joyous heart's beat.
People of all colours will be alike -
'A Goliath' will fall when 'A David' strike!
Prasenjit©1997-2022
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