Stakes and Torches (The Uprising of the Pesants)

Stakes and torches,
Scimitars and bayonets
Scythes, pitchforks,
A sickle with a
Sharpened edge
Swords and spades
And mallets that are
Made of lead.

Anything at hand,
Anything that can,
Help us to remove
The head
Of that filthy rich,
Fat son of a bitch while
He’s sleeping in his bed.
Storm the steps we
Break into the palace hall
It’s so majestic,
We are frozen in our awe.
Grandmother cries as
She crumbles to her
Knees, she says, “I can
That the rich demand an
Amount of luxury.
But I’d have
Never dreamed
It was so extreme
While we had nothing
To eat.”

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