This is the city built on gold,
And diamonds, by the ton.
Johannesburg, South Africa.
The white man claimed it with a gun.

With time to kill, one fine, fresh morn.
Before I caught my flight.
I walked through the heart of Jo'berg.
Marvelling at the sight.

The sun blazed on my naked head.
Hot tar warmed my tired feet.
When I saw a sight i'll ne'er forget,
Come scuttling down the street.

He was handsome, young, but he was black.
I felt so ill at ease.
I gazed down at the smiling face
Of a black man, on his knees.

He seemed so happy, but I felt sad.
I asked him how this came to be.
For both his legs were missing,
Cut off below the knee.

It happened in a gold mine,
He answered with a grin.
Digging way beneath the ground
When the roof suddenly caved in.

No compensation, no pension,
Prosthetic limbs, or wheelchairs.
He dragged himself on a leather apron,
Donated by multi millionaires.

Achill Ladd

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-price-of-gold/