Caste-Ing Call Poem by Eric Paeplow

Oh the politicians of my dark continent
Speak of great and little things,
Yet not a one, can speak for me
They drone on and on,
About what we should think or do
Yet our culture's crevices run deep
Between the classes,
Each, stuck in their castes
Social stratification, social restriction,
And they say, a basis for affirmative action
Yet the poor remain downtrodden,
While the middle class lives quite all right
And those that have separated themselves,
Each from the rest,
Always seem to have it best
The Sudras carry the burdensome load
And the Vaisyas' create the rest
While the Kshatriyas protect them both,
All the while, day by day
The Brahmins telling them all what to do
Seems simple enough I guess,
Unless of course, you are not one of them
The Sudras carrying their cups
and living in squalor
Begging for a little to help them,
Make it through to tomorrow
How cruel it seems to me,
That those lowly people
Have no where they can go
And don't have enough to eat...