The workers go on a hunger strike in front of the factory. <br />They demand a bonus for the coming Christmas season. <br />The proprietor is a wicked stingy soul who makes a big profit margin in the factory by producing special condoms against AIDS? <br />He never increased a penny of their salaries so far. <br />He bribed the police and in this horrible wintry night I see a mass of crowd the strikers’ families far away with hurricane lamps. <br />It looks like a serenade. <br />Poor sons of the strikers’ who bring catapults and stones with them made out of their fathers’ old jockstraps and pelt the guards? <br />Really it’s a drizzle to these corrupted police officers who were drunk?<br /><br />nimal dunuhinga<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-hunger-strike/
