To The Man on a High Chair

Tonight I write this poem

Hoping this would stop the chiming of the clock
Hoping this would ring the bells
of the one sitting on top
Hear this verse I am going to say
Hear the noise behind the silence your people
Hear the cry of your laughing men
Hear the song of the silent crowd
See the frown from the smiling faces
See the distress behind their delight
See the tears, the sweat, and the blood they shed as they seek for a convenient
life
Feel it all, feel their forlorn, the anger, the fear, and the sorrow of their
melancholic soul and disturbed heart.
Your men have had that suffrage
They have put you above all
They have put you where you are right now
You who is now on top
You who is now grasping the branches of power
You who is bathing in the milk of their squeezed pockets
While you fed on nectar they cry those bitter tears haunting them till they fall
asleep.
Drowsed by the painful sensation, Drowsed by a fatigue from a loaded day
On your tables you feast, while some of them share five pieces of bread in a meal
While you sleep on soft beds they cram their selves in a cold, hard ground
While you sit on your chair they suffer from a heavy day, punished from a little
mistake.
Many of them have died reaching your unreachable hands
Screaming eyes as fear silenced their mouths
Suffering after suffering
Pain after pain
Grief after grief
Anger after anger
Madness after madness
Repeated sentiments
When will this ever end?
When will this oppression cease?
When will these prayers be heard?
When will the screams be noticed?
They have suffered so much
When will you feel the same?
When will you open your closed eyes?
When will you stretch your hands and save them from drowning into this deep
melancholic ocean?
Look at those dirty hands, look at those swollen feet, and look at those tearful
eyes
The heat of the blazing sun has blackened their complexion
Don't be blinded by the way they look
Please, look deeper into their souls
Have you seen it?
Have you seen the creeping shadow of sadness stealing their hope?
Do not let it be victor
O Father, be merciful to this people
Save them from this unjust life
Stretch Your hands and touch their hearts
Ignite the remaining flame of hope buried deep inside their hearts
Let them see Your light as they walk the darkened paths
From time to time, I wonder
What if no one has ever gone old?
What if we have all remained as children?
Chasing each other in green pastures
Nothing but happiness is in the heart
Tears may shed but from a narrow cause
Will everything be different?
And to you who is sitting on top
Uncover those ears
Open those eyes
Turn your head to them who is shouting their grief
Make them feel the clouds, before they meet their end