When your only job is hunting for one

A homemaker, often a woman as per general norm, She, the one who makes the so-called house, a home. A job which is honorary to the literal sense, Is it that shallow to be paid in mere gold or that much dense?   The workers of this union are spread everywhere, One fulfilling her child’s dreams, one saving him from a nightmare. Best services delivered to people of all ages alike, Without any demand, protest or strike.   But strike, if they want; and that if they announce, “i won’t do it no more!” Is what they pronounce. A blasphemy, chaos, or a curse as some may say, A priceless possession lost, one servant down to the misogynist’s utter dismay.   No one to love, nor to care for, the world void of posterity, No one to feed a morsel of affection; the difference, now clear as clarity! Passion, respect, virtues, morals; all of their meaning obsolete, War, agony and envy, now roaming freely on the streets.   The wrath of time spares none, nor will this malignant strike, Ar...

Once, they say there was a man, presumed to be a leader beyond compare Of people, to whom he promised, that days of light would ensue their night, And from the tyranny of the prevailing rulers, he would free them all. But Beware! Said some elders who smelled the spice in his talks, that which only added to their plight. But no heed did anyone pay, and appointed him as their leader, And he, under the guise of realizing promises, went on playing a different game. A game of control, rightly so, as he now began gardening people's minds, his ideas the seeders, And time did play its role, as those seeds sprouted, and the garden was now his to tame. Now the king, though self-proclaimed, he started bringing about change not wanted, That of currency and of loyalty, which shifted towards his bureaucratic friends, Who benefitted millions from this chaos, and market monopoly, they now flaunted, Whilst some struggled and others protested, but in this pandemonium only saw their ends. And now fin...