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The Burning Masses


We are the masses

Matching in mass across the streets

Standing like trees we mob the streets

Standing with babies

Standing to achieve your dreams

Standing with drained brains

To offer you a seat

We are the masses

We are matches

Burning with fire

In a housewife’s grip

Giving out our lights

For you to shine

While we die

We are the masses

Matching down our own pride

Our kids burn candles

To lit their future

While the candle lasts,

They end up lighting

Your progenies’ future

We are the masses

Our pains gnash us like meat

Meat in your rapacious teeth

So we offer you a seat

And pray you break

A leg on your way down

We are the masses

Like matches

Ignited on the matchbox

We give you our heritage

And die in penury

Serving our servants

Dying without our consent

We are the masses

Be wary of us for we burn as matches

When your seat crashes,

Prepare and hold on to crutches

Our torches

Shall flash with ardent justice

Home and overseas

Shall we purge your every purses

© 2019 Ebizimor Boloukie

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