The Country Ants

This is a poem mainly about the most neglected and unsophisticated section of society, the country people. These are the people we have completely ignored and deprived of all the necessities.

Caught underneath the scrapers

They sing a varied tune

Unheard.

Unfound.

Pressed and squashed underneath your branded slippers

Caught beneath the humdrum

Of greater civilisation.

With opium filling the air,

Barefeet with crooked grammar

Tall tales of short lives

From the lower pavements 

Of greater society.

A sad death note of humanity

Told by rough hands

Replacing pens with shovels

And lotions of mud

Moistening the heart, not the body

It is free

For all to see

And hear

A thousand tales of sad deaths

Unheard.

Unfound

Author's Note

any sort of feedback will be much appreciated, do make a comment on the style and theme