Bitter Harvest

This bitter harvest
stolen rows
sold-out futures
in silent votes

He wakes before the sky turns gray
boots on mud that never pays
rain or fire
he breaks his back
while suits in cities
count their stack

They talk of trade
of price and scale
but none of them
held a calf gone pale

His hands fed towns
they’ll never know
now banks foreclose
where wheat won’t grow

He’s got two kids
and one last loan
a hundred acres
but none he owns

The check comes late
the costs climb fast
they cheer their yield
while he won’t last

The seeds they sell
don’t sprout the same
each season rigged
a crooked frame

He signs his name
they change the rules
call it progress
then treat him cruel

This bitter harvest
fed by sweat
used him up
then called it debt

They pass him by
like dirt and stone
but he’s the root
they built it on

So drink your fill
from the ones you drain
the hands that bled
through flood and flame

And if they break
don’t ask them why
you turned your back
while they scraped the sky