Fortune Favours the Knave

What a tough day!

Too much work and too little play.

What a tough day!

 

Work is worship,

That’s what they say.

Oh, what a tough day!

 

Every morning gives you the same warning.

Walking barefoot on the tender grass,

Just maintaining some distance from the dingy mass;

A “hey!” stops you on your way.

Oh, what a tough day!

 

In the noon – expect no boon.

Tough bread and sweet syrup for lunch,

And things which cows refuse to munch;

On your plate, that’s what hurriedly they lay.

Oh, what a tough day!

 

At sundown, she donned the moth-eaten gown.

Sitting by the stove, with much toil, she did make,

A cup of coffee – before her love’s awake;

Sipping the drink, you mentioned – “I can’t stay.”

Oh, what a cruel day!

 

After nine, you accepted the dinner and the wine.

O’Brien, adjusting his spectacles,

Confirmed the resistance and its various obstacles;

And in favour of the brotherhood, that night, you did sway.

Oh, what an adventurous day!

 

At midnight, you notice that something’s not right.

On the wall, you see a telescreen,

Which, due to the portrait, was left unseen;

The thought police, with their truncheons, gave a menacing display.

Oh, what a terrifying day!

 

All night, with sticks and shocks, they show’d their might.

The enemy in a friend’s guise,

Seemed so confident, composed and wise;

Finally, with patience and tact, he ‘helped’ overcome your mental disarray.

Oh, what is a day?

 

At day-break, you promptly wake.

You see her again – under the spreading chestnut tree,

Where you sold her, and she sold thee;

“I love big brother”, was all you could say.

Oh, Oh, what a rectangular day!

 

P.S. It has been quite some time since I read ‘1984‘. I just hope that I remember its lessons.

This poem was originally posted on Allpoetry (date: – 25th March 2017). Find me there!

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