Modern Slavery



When the slaves got their freedom

They left the plantations

The masters asked others to come

To build their nations



Today modern slavery is still vain

The masters are the same

They don 't use the whip and chain

But left many so lame



The banks are the slave-masters

They have the best slaves

They are the "no choice workers"

Treating them as knaves



They work them like dogs

With the chief aim to produce for sure

And as they pant like hogs

With supervisors who always want more



They earn their money

By high interest rates

To pay their big salary

Of their loving mates



Then after a year they gave them a party

This is the Xmas for a year's work

Few free drinks to camouflage their hypocrisy

To let them forget their master was a jerk



Industries are the worst slave-masters

They are or may not live in the country

Where they emotionally pillage the workers

  Professing the workers are always free



  Squeezing the last ounce from your bone

And with smiles and frills

Let you work your brothers 'til they moan

As they forget your ills



As you slave in the mines like a mite

Toiling from dawn to dusk

Extracting the minerals and bauxite

Living on the coconut husk



Worst of all slaves are in the coal mines

Whose generation gave their all

Ending up with less than their fines

Until they too have their fall



For they like their predecessors

These masters can never prosper

For the lives taken by the possessors

And that went wantonly after



The worst curse to a slave master

Is when you can never ever win

Is when the beloved wife or mother

Curse you for killing their kin



You would think that after all the history

Today man would learn from their knavery

He is still committing industrial adultery

In the modern sweat-shops of this century



Kid's and child labour are still rabidly rampant

In New York with the big' labels

By owners who won't and supervisors who can't

As they collect under the tables



Then all the dinero is sent abroad

The government turn a blind eye

Once the necessary taxes are paid

As they tolerate this blatant lie.



Written by Norman Datt

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Coming from the  former colonial country  of Guyana , I found here in North America  that slavery  in these cold climate is still acceptable and thriving.

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jgupta's picture

This is a good poem!