PoemWISDOM OF THE OPPRESSED

WISDOM OF THE OPPRESSED

How fair is life, O wise one

Does it help the weak and infirm

Does it handicap the big and strong

To whom does the power belong?

You truly are naïve, said he, amused

What does fair mean to you and to another

Is it the same, or is it a matter of view?

Come with me and let me show you.

Yonder is the King’s castle on the hill

Whence he looks down on all his serfs

Exalted he is, but not by merit or deed

We are lesser mortals than he is, indeed!

But we put him there, O wise one

Wasn’t that by our freedom of choice

He is not a king, he is put there to serve

Isn’t free choice precious for us to preserve?

You didn’t put him there, neither did I

His glib tongue and oratory did the deed

His magic created the perfect illusion

All of us sipped from his magic potion

You think you have the power to choose

We are like lambs being led to slaughter

Lambs who think they have the power

When we stand before him we have to cower

Life is not fair, freedom is an illusion

Once we choose the king we are bound to be ruled

Do not dare to look the king in the eye

He is almighty and freedom is a pie in the sky

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