We Are 'contractors', We Are Human. Poem by Mutsawashe Museredza

Anxiously all day, night long family anticipate, the fruits
of the sweat of the breadwinner, daddy, brother, sister from every day's work.
Waking up early.
The wage seem taking its time to come how much one is to be dished
into one's coffers by the owner, of work and all chunk of the income, only quarter being awarded by the master.
Is it crafted in the principles of slavery? Nothing one
say is heard, quickly enough to be effected for change.
We are contractors, we are human.
We ply our trades in parallel tracks but we aim to achieve the same goal,
to push the agenda of the platinum giants at large and it's wants and needs.

Laughing stock are we? from wages to working conditions.
But after all have been said and done, John Newton, came up with the song
Amazing Grace, after only the attrocities against slaves.
Are we to be consoled, one day? Do we have our future preserved in pension?
We are contractors, we are human.
Mutsawashe Museredza.(January 2022)