Protest

 

John Vink

To sin by silence, when we should protest, 

Makes cowards out of men. The human race 

Has climbed on protest. Had no voice been raised 

Against injustice, ignorance, and lust, 

The inquisition yet would serve the law, 

And guillotines decide our least disputes. 

The few who dare, must speak and speak again 

To right the wrongs of many. Speech, thank God, 

No vested power in this great day and land 

Can gag or throttle. Press and voice may cry 

Loud disapproval of existing ills; 

May criticise oppression and condemn 

The lawlessness of wealth-protecting laws 

That let the children and childbearers toil 

To purchase ease for idle millionaires. 

Therefore I do protest against the boast 

Of independence in this mighty land. 

Call no chain strong, which holds one rusted link. 

Call no land free, that holds one fettered slave. 

Until the manacled slim wrists of babes 

Are loosed to toss in childish sport and glee, 

Until the mother bears no burden, save 

The precious one beneath her heart, until 

God’s soil is rescued from the clutch of greed 

And given back to labor, let no man 

Call this the land of freedom. 

Ella Wheeler Wilcox