A Poem by Sarah M. Zang
The wrath of all the seasons past
falls fast upon this gloomy day,
There’s not a single ray of sun
seen to mingle with dire deeds done.
Monsanto and Dow Chemical
would burn our parent planet bare,
Their malevolent corp’rate play
leaves a scarred and oozing pathway.
The titan fist of tyranny
breaks rapidly the might and mind
of those entrapped by luck and fate
and backwash of an awful hate.
The dollar wields a green fed greed
that does not yield to hope nor dread.
When price is up and profits mount
the miser’s happy with the count,
but when bull turns bear the pennies
pinch; Shylock gives not one scant inch.
The piper comes to claim his pay,
it matters not the time nor day.
Agent Orange convicted now,
exposed, this evil criminal
of battles fought on distant soil,
atrocities that still despoil.
The tired men toil with tears and sweat,
beat long before they bid or bet.
The pound of flesh as promised then,
once took with blood, now bleeds again.