I am the people, the mob

I am the people—the mob—the crowd—the mass.

Do you know that all the great work of the world is done through me?

I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world’s food and

     clothes.

I am the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from me

     and the Lincolns. They die. And then I send forth more Napoleons

     and Lincolns.

I am the seed ground. I am a prairie that will stand for much plowing.

     Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out

     and wasted. I forget. Everything but Death comes to me and makes

     me work and give up what I have. And I forget.

Sometimes I growl, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for history

     to remember. Then—I forget.

When I, the People, learn to remember, when I, the People, use the

     lessons of yesterday and no longer forget who robbed me last year,

     who played me for a fool—then there will be no speaker in all the

     world say the name: “The People," with any fleck of a sneer in his

     voice or any far-off smile of derision.

The mob—the crowd—the mass—will arrive then.

Carl Sandburg

(Picture: La ruta de la libertad o La lucha del hombre por la paz, Vela Zanetti)