The Editorial Board of The Masses received the following poem from a member of People’s Defense Committee who worked as a janitor.
Countless days passing by,
No end to this mundane repetition
Meaningless to my existence
My purpose blunted, creativity destroyed
When I’m finally free from the pain
I’m consumed by the opium they sell me
Drowning out thoughts, nothing for myself
Falling deeper into despair
My rebellious words are heard on deaf ears
They stare at me like an odd one out,
I’m given empty words that keep me in line
Empathy that once was, no longer exists
How much longer here?
Was this what I dreamed of when I was kid?
Full of ambitions and dreams
Another cog in the endless machine,
Success only comes as a “what if?”
Another distant imagination
Things can’t possibly be like this forever
A spark fires within my heart,
Longing to be heard
May change start with me
[Image Source: Caution Capitalism, Robert Carter, 2010]
