They Call This Revolution...
they call this revolution...
bare knuckled, bruised lip,
fist fighting, scuffing,
for food to eat...
the garbage of the elite,
stinking of excess.
struggling,
for some kind of shelter,
for a fire and a bed...
equal rights? human rights?
just trying to live!
the anger of the oppressed
stains the sheets of the rich!
the faceless ones march
in the face of the big guns.
what's a life to lose,
when you have no way to live!
and they call this revolution...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
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