Traveled from afar, migrants of hope
Crawling in the silence, scraping their souls, stitching our cloths
Dwelling in still shadows cast by skyscrapers of greedPremeditated blindness–on the invisibles rights they impede
The innerworkings of a clock, they comprise our great machine
The innerworkings of a clock, they comprise our great machine
Lying behind the face–their presence goes unseen
They work for while their good then get thrown away
A piece of trash left on the street and all without a say
Cries for help are not heard poverty keeps them hoarse
No one dares inquire about our savings source.
Take advantage of low cost there’s a sale today
Lose no sleep while you forget that someone has to pay
© 2009 Matt Bohannon
nice. did this come out of reading the jungle?
ReplyDeletehalf of it did. the other half i had the sweatshop workers that forever 21 exploited in my mind. i'm glad you like it.
ReplyDeleteoops. i left a line out. ("the innerworkings of a clock, they comprise our great machine") there, now it's balanced.
ReplyDelete