Why can't we speak on the pain?

Only on the gains.

Only on consumerism, followers and fame

Why is our truth a stain?

When did we become the ones to blame?

We’re supposed to be grateful

"Shut up, smile and don’t you dare turn hateful"

Can’t even complain

Pissing on us and telling us its rain

They tell us it's our fault

Again and again

All while they have gained

And gained and gained

They silence our pain

And we feel shame

We are not the ones to blame

We did not create the chains

For gold, grains and sugarcane

They hoard the wealth obtained

Through cheap labour its sustained

I despise the wealth that's bloodstained

So here's my poem on just sliver of my pain.