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Is a hopeless soul.

Who has made these hopeless souls?

Who has moulded these brutal faces?

TRUTH: The State, Maker of Laws and Privilege, Harborer of plunderers; Even as an old barn is a harborer of rats.

POET: The primal maternity offers her abundant breasts, Yearning as a mother.

TRUTH: But the oppressors drain her to themselves. They build about the eternal mother a wall of stone

whereon are placed pickets who remorselessly exclude

her children. The stones of the wall are laws and the pickets are those

who enforce the laws. The privileged who dwell within toss over the wall a

crust from their abundance, crying, "Witness our

charity," But they will not let the poor tear down the wall to share

of the abundance.

POET: They are willing to give to the Poor a crumb. But they are not willing to get off their backs.

TRUTH: Revolution ! Oh, blessed Revolution !

POET: Behind the laws are rifles and bullets whining the message of the lawmakers.

TRUTH: Force is the mother of iniquity. And from her womb the greatest iniquity the law,

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