For too long, they’ve accepted the bitter fruit.
You’ve subjugated them to an unequal seat,
And for years, they’ve been waiting patiently,
Hidden in the back room.
They’ve taken the scraps you’ve thrown out,
Yet they’ve created something of their own.
They’re a proud, vigilant, and righteous people,
Who will rest no longer.
Poverty is their sea, but the tide has turned.
Their humanity has risen against the man’s boot,
For deep within their struggle, there is persistence,
And they will prevail.
ManDrama,
When I read your poem, I appreciated your taking a jump into the “sea.” Yet, I am also swimming in that sea of a depth so deep, that defining the issues and resolution are not light work. But, I am grateful that the mantle of leadership worldwide will be given to the new generation, whose hearts “are” beating to the rhythm of change that I found in your poem.