Member Poem

(On Agricultural Exploitation & Food Insecurity)

The fields once bowed in golden grace,
Now wear a mask of barren waste.
The hands that toiled, the sweat they bled,
Now reap but dust where hunger’s fed.

The seeds they sowed, the roots they grew,
Were poisoned by the ones they knew.
A farmer bends, yet earns no grain,
For greed has turned the soil insane.

The land was theirs, yet stripped away,
By hands unseen, by deals betrayed.
The markets feast, the rich dine well,
Yet villages drink drought’s cruel spell.

A factory’s hum, a smokestack’s rise,
Where forests weep and farmland dies.
A profit made, a stomach bare,
The rich consume, the poor despair.

Yet still the earth, though bruised and scarred,
Can mend the wounds, can heal the charred.
But man must choose to shift his hand,
To feed the child, not rule the land.

For every grain that's shipped away,
Another life is lost today.
Yet nature speaks—its voice is clear,
Restore the fields, the roots, the ear.

The harvest poisoned, stolen dry,
Can bloom again if greed must die.
Let hands once robbed take back their plow,
Let justice feed the starving now.