The Worker Poem by Martin Greyford

You wake up early in the morning,
To the resonance of your conscience,Your inner you has told your outer,
That.....dawn is breaking.

You know WORKER that someone needs you somewhere,
You grumble, but you've to meet the odds, To the slaveyard, you walk, WORKER,
To the house of slaughter, you march humbly like a sheep,
To the sweatshop, you march, as a criminal being led to the cell.

They enslave your soul WORKER,
Their affluence renders them,
Their might that renders them right.
You've got to endure it WORKER.

Like a criminal they keep you closed in the sweatshop,
Where everyone is turned into a mere working tool of the shop.
By intimidation and harassement induced by them,
You've to be a tool.
You got to contain all this, poor WORKER.

The world is theirs and you've to live up to that.
Remember, you can suffer now, but you can't suffer forever.
Work until the day is over, everyday WORKER!