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Writer's picture ARIAKA WALTER

WHO WILL BE OUR BANK?



They said hard work pays

They said you reap what you sow

Such a wonderful principle of work

A quitter never wins and a winner never quits

Drove us to with every grain of life in us

To build castles and mansions for their promises


Their materials were not enough to make them living

The living as we are was to do that

So with everything that gave us life,

We gave them life and remained empty

It was not made of sand and cement or any material,

But our labor consisting of our sweat, time, and health

That is what raised them to the skies we had never reached


They are now with first class security

But we can’t afford a watchman or a gate for our imaginary homes

Tall and colorful, big and magnificent but

lived in by those, who can’t even lay bricks!

They are lived in by those who can’t even nail a wood.

The real beings who labored to make it the god it is are somewhere

Numbered with the slum dwellers

and cumbered with debts their sweat has not paid

Yet it was lost yet it was spent to give life

They are supplied with servants to do everything in them

But we are trodden to the Earth from which we raised them

Our water is gray yet they have the clean one

It flashes their toilets while we have to suffer with poor hygiene


We planted too much it has left us with bruises

It sent some of us to the grave

These sunken eyes and boney ribs were our reward

The harvest is much yet our share is not

Our in put was much and now our pay a

hand-to mouth vicious circle

We can’t afford anything apart from food for some days

But we have built castles!

When shall we sleep in one?

We have made mansions they are worshipping!

When shall we have such a scene before us?

We sowed well and good seeds, we need the same harvest


It was always about the service and not the servant!

It is always about the building and not the builder!

A brick matters more than us

When we fall, we are weak and lazy they says not caring what we give up

When a brick falls, we’re fired for it is more of value than us because they spent buying it

A mistake costs it all to soil and be useless

A thousand good deeds are immediately forgotten

And the one bad unintended makes all of them worthless

Yet we’d to endure a thousand iron fists hitting us

And had one reason to do our work

The only good deed that is supposed to be in the list of bad ones

That’s the life we and those like us have been left with

And the important ones enjoy of our sweat

Not our children nor grandchildren because we don’t deserve it

With little education and limited resources,

The world’s gift to us is a generational slavery one by which

Our children’s children will still be haunted yet we

make theirs’ dreams come true



Who will pour him or herself for us

And see our dreams come true?

For though we stopped dreaming a long time ago, We still have dreamers

people who want to reap what they have sown

People who want the equivalent payment for their hard work

Who will be a bank unto us?

Where we don’t keep money for we have not a cent or any worthy property

But we have our lives!

We have our sweat and hard work

We need a bank for them all that whoever will want it of us,

Some one who can see what we give up for all that is

Someone who believes that he or giveth, receiveth

Will you be the one?

For we know if it is not you’ it is someone you know

Who is reaping thorns and weeds for an apple they planted

We hope you’ll be the one to change it.




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