I Am The Crowd.
I am the crowd
I swim in the quagmire of poverty
its hook, its barbs, tear my flesh,
rupture my dreams.
I hold my breath for centuries
hoping to break through, gasp pure air.
Through the murky mire
I see bright things, shiny things sparkle
I see women in fine dresses, men in fine silk shirts
I ask myself,
why do I swim in this cesspool?
I want the light and warmth of rectitude
to caress my labouring body,
seeds of my dreams to bloom
like wild flowers in a meadow.
One day I will use my boundless strength
to haul this torn battered being
out of the morass
onto the warm grassy bank,
when I do;
woe betide you, women in fine dresses,
woe betide you mister in your fine silk shirt
should you ever try to get in my way,
for I am the strength of the world,
I am the crowd.www.radicalglasgow.me.uk