My Poem Is A Cry

My poem is a cry
Of downtrodden people
This soliloquy mutiny of ignored grievances
Whose being and condonation is the bleakness
The despair , the peter out of democracy.
Never jostle the ignoble and trampled mass
Once again towards the torch
Of revolution -
Dare they light it -
Dedicated to the spark and burning
Of it they long?