“Monsters You Made” — A Poem by Pendullum

You push us down repeatedly,
Then walk all over us with glee.
You disrespect us openly; playing on our intelligence like we have no clue.
Thirty-six million has turned to snake food,
When did reptiles swap meat for paper?
And when we try to ask questions,
You call us monsters.

You rip away our humanity,
Breaking our spirits with years of neglect and abuse of power.
You treat us worse than animals—
Openly murdering our loved ones in the street,
Preferring the lives of livestock to humans in many cases.
And when we decide to fight back,
You call us monsters.

You feed us with hunger,
And quench our thirst with blood.
In your quest for power,
You turn our children to thugs,
And make our brothers be dogs.
Yet we when behave like animals,
You call us monsters.

Our society is dog-eat-dog,
And it’s all part of your scheme,
Just so you can remain on top.
To adapt to an increasingly hostile world,
We grew fangs for teeth, talons for nails and our hearts moved to our backs.
Yet when we appear as beasts,
You call us monsters.

You steal our dreams,
You kidnap our hopes,
You make our ambitions of no consequence,
Turning the society on its head.
Now, we go to school; then come out to learn a trade.
Yet when we try to stand up for ourselves,
You call us monsters.

You locked us in for six months,
You promised palliatives, instead you slashed our wages,
Protecting us from corona but exposing us to hunger.
Now we are out of the cage;
Only to meet inflated prices of food, petrol, electricity…
Yet when we cry out in rage,
You call us monsters.

From being broken, battered and browbeaten,
We’ve become charged up, chagrined and choleric.
We are men and women in a never-ending rat race,
Children born into a world of survival of the best-connected.
These things ought not to be so,
But when we try to speak up,
You call us monsters.

Yes, we may be monsters—
But we are monsters you made.
We are beasts you bred;
Demons you reared.
This is a problem of your making;
We’ve had enough of being shit on,
So we have no choice but to look out for our interests.

You may not like how we go about it;
You may call us monsters, savages, militants, rebels, terrorists…
But if things don’t change in our society,
Then it will only get worse.
Call us what you will,
But remember: you did this, you sent us down this path—
We are the monsters you made.

Read Also==>“Pick Your Worries” — A Poem by Epiphany

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