You rape us and we say thank you
for the largesse that is ours, anyway.
You take away from our mouths
that have ceased talking a long time ago
(you stole our words, as well).
You call your loot “commission”
We call them for what they are:
our blood and sweat and tears.
Our children go barefoot
While you call in our arrears.
And we pay you!
We actually are dumb enough to pay
You because we cannot count
And we cannot read, and we cannot fight,
You stole that from us as well.
Conrado de Quiros never fails to inspire me (http://opinion.inquirer.net/56553/consuelo).