The Downtrodden

This is the cry of the downtrodden,
the fallen and the weak
we who feel hopeless,
the whispers of the meak.

You laugh as you put down your foot,
Knowing this to be the only end.
Seeing us fall to pieces,
watching as we all bend.

You mock us as you look down,
standing tall and straight.
Smiling to yourself in triumph,
as we fall prostrate.

You grin as you listen,
not even having to try,
You know it to be your right
to listen to us cry.

But things don't always go as planned,
life is not always just so grand.
You turn your back with a sneer,
knowing we are filled with fear.

You did not hear it happen,
for you could not see it there.
The tears wiped away quickly,
replaced with a glare.

You would have stopped laughing,
had you come to realize.
Victory blinded you to see,
as we began to rise.

Now your eyes turn to terror,
and you realize it was not done,
as you turn to see us coming,
Standing tall to see you run.

The chant of the victors,
the ones who never gave in.
The standing and the betters.
This is the shout of the downtrodden.