The Giving of Thanks

What profit the meek that they gain the earth
Without the wherewithal to plough
And sow the seeds of distant mirth
So jollity may bloom and grow

To render fruitful gifted sod
Takes time that none so meek may hold
Unless in changing nature’s clod
He steels himself to make so bold

And doing thusly, loses all
The bounty he had earned in deep
Humility and careful crawl
To build the empires he did seek

With these two hands undo the deeds
Upon which founder grew so tall
All loftiness and blessed greed
No longer fearful at the call

When other men have stood and shook
From head to toe to hear such voice
Proclaiming what had been forsook
By liberty and foolish choice

What meek men did, they do no more
As others shuffle in their place
And turn their cheek and fear the poor
Whose habits keep them clothed in lace

Where now is earth? What saltiness
Has dripped upon the failing crops
From little more than cowardice
The planet from mean axis, stops

No longer crouching ‘cross the sky
But stalling in such attitude
With what was learned from you and I
When treated harshly, men are rude

Mechanicals at best and worst
Who may not see their actions’ swell
But recognise their face is cursed
And know the reason all too well

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Why is it acceptable
To offer unpaid work
Expect someone to carry out
The duties others shirk

Without the basic dignity
Of taking home a wage
To compensate them for the time
They’ve bottled up their rage

To cover bills and buy their food
And clothing, pay the rent
Do people somehow think
That volunteering’s time well spent

When everything around us
Has associated fees
(We buy natural resources, water,
Light, heat, air and trees)

Save workers from stupidity
And keep us free from debt
You can’t afford to go without
The things we do, and yet

You’d rather keep the cash
Than spend it on a junior role
So tell us why your profit costs
Another man his soul?