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The Communist Manifesto: A Poem
Kings and queens ruled the world.
Ancestry and lineage determined your worth,
An endless cycle you could not break.
And so the poor, huddled, masses rose up.
Pitchfork and torch in hand,
They stormed the marble palaces,
and broke it to rubble and ruin.
“Huzzah!” they declared triumphiantly,
For they had rid the world of the monster known as feudalism:
The lies upon lies told through beautifully woven stories,
To keep the ignorant and weak in a state of perpetuated misery.
“Huzzah!” For his life and his success
was in the hands of himself, no one else.
Hard work and perserverance had won at last,
Man was free to dream beyond his dreary,
often disappointing circumstances.
For now, there was hope of a better tomorrow,
To guide the lost and shattered forward.
And now, again they sit, glum expression on their face,
Working hour after hour in the factory,
tirelessly, to make ends meet.
Paid little, they are,
One small worthless pawn out of many,
Toiling away to fill the greedy stomachs
of their fat masters.
“Money makes the world go round,”
A harsh truth, how a few small scraps of paper with numbers
Can make the difference between life and death.
Once again, an endless cycle,
Of eternal poverty and eternal riches,
Of eternal scarcity and eternal indulgence.
Can’t we ever all have enough?
And so the workingmen united,
Banded together by common discontentment
With the state of society,
And started a revolution
To fix all they had seen wrong in their lives before.
No longer would a mother be forced to shed tears
As her children struggled to find food to eat.
No longer would the privileged be able to live
With wasteful abundance, whenever and however they pleased,
without any cares in the world, as their own had been fulfilled.
No longer would the masses cut their hands with glass shards
To keep the hands of the elite soft and clean,
like baby skin-free of imperfections.
And so it was decided, that all would be shared equally by the people.
The barren wasteland upon which no life grew
As well as the fertile, crop-growing
In which inhabited varying ecosystems,
Teeming with life.
It didn’t matter, All was the same.
No one was better, no one was worse.
All would be shared in peaceful harmony.