The little precious
money we had
Was declared worthless paper
In an evening 8 PM announcement
Our beloved leader had asked us
To suffer some inconvenient days
We readied for the little predicament!
My man, a father of children three
Worked in a factory in the city, he
Rushed to catch the morning train
A tiffin box I kept in
his shoulder bag
For him to eat at the noon break
He bore another worry in his brain!
He must present the dead notes to bank
To exchange them for legal money
He must stand in the queue serpentine
For without these bucks can we buy?
The little rice and vegetable we eat
Factory aside, he
must stand in line!
You shouldn’t cry, you can’t complain
For our dearest leader had told us so
For hours stood my man in the crawl
Couldn’t reach the
exchange counter
From morning to afternoon standing
In exhaustion, on floor he had a fall!
He had gone out alive in the morning
Returned a lifeless corpse in the evening
Leaving hungry his three children and wife
The demon made by the midnight magic
Instead of causing little inconvenience
Had cruelly strangled the poor man’s life!
Since then I wash dishes in four houses
My son left school to work with laborers
We four souls are struggling to survive
I don’t so much watch the idiot box now
There smart people mouth smart words
Our economy, they say,
is on up thrive!
Xavier Bage
Fri, November 10,2017
4:45 AM
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