The Tearful Human Machines In The Unscrupulous Capitalist Factory

The bourgeoisie weary ordeal human skeletons entangle in the cast iron wheels. The profiteer squeezes their testicle and ovum. Crush their Marrow less bones, Wisdom and Courage et cetera. The output of thousands major products as same as by-products (ammunition) send for the market? The Non-stop black smoke with soot from the factory's chimney top, Poor fellows' dreams blow into the helpless sky and pollute; The pure nature too quiet as an Owl of this cruel Monopoly. And the stinking Sweatshop seems to be long-lived in this tyranny World. I dedicate this poem to the humbug Mushroom Organizations that yelp of human rights.