A shadow falls across the land,
like the stretching of a hand.
Large and strong, thick and wide,
crushing souls down deep inside.
The weak can't run, or get away;
the strong and rich, they must obey.
Up and down and round and round,
pulled and stretched without a sound.
Receiving little, still giving their all;
as faces turn from a hungry child's call.
Sickness is nothing, still labor they must.
Who can they turn to, or who can they trust?
All Rights Reserved © C. J. Rains 10/4/2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hmmmmm. I think I know who this is about but we shall say no names or we might get a visit from tight-jawed men with steely eyes... I am very intrigued with this title... I like titles that draw me to read a poem and this poem certainly fulfills the promise of its title. 10+