May Day

The first of May is a May Day

Unlike the other Day, this made a memento

For the class, dehumanized, below par

Rewritten the history, stained with gore

Shed the blood of lower rung

Fleeced money by the suckers

The hapless lot looked agape!

Shylocks’ canine smote, vitiated

Throat tearing poverty moved little

Their sweats were sown gold produce

Built edifice, their comfort zone

Young breaths oozed out, silently –

The labours like Ruth groaned

Reached not to the hoarder

They wallowed and amassed money

The vein on the wan, diminishing!

The stone like hunger engulfed them

Bereft of hearth and home

Slept on the muddy floor

Their life vitality yielded gold

The upheaval, an undertow, fomented

Wrested sleep from the profiteers

Now the united might:

Not a mere midge

Psychic wrecks unified them

To relandscape their role today

Brooked no inhumility, misanthrope

Sought justice for equity

For Paul Robeson, Mandela dreamt of