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    Vol.63/No.14           April 12, 1999 
 
 
CLASS--a poem  
The following poem, written by a farmer in Pennsylvania, was inspired by Capitalism's World Disorder: Working-Class Politics at the Millennium. The Militant is publishing it here as the first of a series of brief reviews.

Toilers at the industrial site, Keepers of the factory, day and night. In your hands the future lies, Without you it falls and dies.

Upon your class and iron will, The world depends for good or ill. You are the fountain of progress now, We look to you to show us how.

Your unity and solidarity must shine, To all the workers on the line. With a purpose true and high, On which our hopes all fly.

As the bosses make you leaner still, Your resolve will grow until, You will yourselves transform, And a new tomorrow will be born.

Lead on toilers of the night, Tomorrow awaits your great insight. Join the battle for a better way, Dignity, respect and better pay.

The battle is not yours alone, But every one of blood and bone. Has a vital stake in the race, To rearrange the capitalist's face.

The road to World War Three, Lies through the ranks of you and me. To start the War of the Century, The bosses must move you and me.

Clear your mind, hold up your head, Workers, we are far from dead.

Linn Hamilton, 1999

 
 
 
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