Strike (a poem of the future)

“The Industrial Revolution!”
American workers cry,
Who’d rather earn their bread each day
And plan their lives and save their pay,
Than lie and steal and die.

“The Industrial Revolution!”
Our guilt-free bosses’ song,
Who’d rather teach the willing man
To shape the world with his own hand,
Than ‘plain of social “wrong”.

“The Industrial Revolution!”
Consumers lively shout,
When they can buy what greets their eye,
Enjoying sovereign selves that fly,
Than trudge in selfless doubt.

“O Industrial Revolution,”
Our poets glad declaim,
“You’ve put man into motion,
You’ve moved him up to fame,
And Poetry is happier
With lightbulb than with flame.”

“The Industrial revolution!”
Our politicians chime,
“Makes honesty a virtue now,
No kings around to hurt you now;
In fact, a king’s a crime!”

“The Industrial Revolution!”
Proud businessmen declare,
“Means longer health and greater wealth,
And finer chance of high romance,
Than only low-life ‘share’.”

The Industrial Revolution
Made industry a smile,
That men who think and do their best,
And send their thoughts on long-range quest,
May wear a long long while.

The Industrial Revolution!
Now! Everybody! Cheer!
Strike fires in you for all things new!
Strike truth to where you’re going to!
Strike! for your life is here!

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