Sunday, January 17, 2010

Unorganized



At the dawn of LPG
Collars were stiff,
Taking immense pride
We trekked up the cliff.

Blue collars were dyed
In imported White dyes
‘We’s lost to trend
Took over smart ‘I’s

Liberty from queen
Was sought decades ago,
Uncle Sam masters Now
We bear his logo.

To receive their calls
We awake without qualms,
Our rights hijacked
We sing their psalms

The dream run is over
On the cliff prized
Thousand alarms on the way
Yet we unorganized.

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