Cotton Fields

Fields of cotton

as far as the eye can see,

row upon row of soft white balls

always thirsty

the plants and people,

always hungry

the plants and people.

A crop so thirsty it can dry up a sea

in socialism.

A crop so hungry it can starve a people

in capitalism.

A crop so needy it can render sterile the land

forced to grow it.

A crop so demanding it can destroy,


and exploit

wherever it goes.

Its softness hides a heart of steel.

But still it’s natural.

Always natural.

Only natural.


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