Here you will find the Poem The Truth of poet Francis William Lauderdale Adams
COME then, let us at least know what's the truth. Let us not blink our eyes and say We did not understand; old age or youth Benumbed our sense or stole our sight away. It is a lie ? just that, a lie ? to declare That Wages are the worth of Work. No; they are what the Employer wills to spare To let the Employee sheer starvation shirk. They're the life-pittance Competition leaves, The least for which brother'll slay brother. He who the fruits of this hell-strife receives, He is a thief, an assassin, and none other. It is a lie ? just that, a lie ? to declare That Rent's the interest on just gains. Rent's the thumb-screw that makes the worker share With him who worked not the produce of his pains. Rent's the wise tax the human tape-worm knows. The fat he takes; the life-lean leaves. The holy Landlord is, as we suppose, Just this ? the model of assassin-thieves! What is the trick the Rich-man, then, contrives? How play my lords their brilliant rôles? ? They live on the plunder of our toiling lives, The degradation of our bodies and souls!
