Vengeful dogs

Poem about the Malta independence day. result of me accidentally confusing one holiday with another.

Slaves to our masters,
like dogs, we obey.
Yelling to go faster,

each and every day,

Speaking their tongue,
withdrawing our own.
Teaching the young,
their distasteful moan.

We work and play all day,
all under the wrong shaded flag,
Red and white should display
Not that shameful mudded rag.

The flag sometimes changed,
but always to the wrong colors.
The new masters again reigned,
hiding in their tall towers.

Rage building for years,
finally decided to burst.
Together with our peers,
we shall quench our thirst.

The bloodshed started,
the blades struck true.
They have departed,
and this day, we grew.

Author's Note

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Malta For those interested. This poem simply speaks about the time when the Maltese rose against the english and claimed independence.

Reviews

[RDOriginal]

There's a lot of anger here but I'm not sure how the anger is linked to the history. A series of meetings and a bit of politicking isn't exactly, "bloodshed started, the blades struck true". Anyway, regardless of the historical accuracy this is a nice piece of writing and positively driips with self righteous anger and gives the reader a real feeling of injustice.