~ Wealth’s Poverty ~
We lie atop the sacrificial slab,
and with our quill,
our heart we stab,
blood words upon our skin we scribe.
That others those blood wrought words
and from spiritual poverty
The goal of every word
To free another from
Our truths we see, we say,
and for our truths
and from darkness,
In the shadows do the wicked dwell,
from whence the poor,
with false hopes cast as arrows,
With mistruth they bind the masses,
spreading hopes of salvation,
which they buy,
Lottery promises of escape from poverty,
Hopes, of freedom from this
A piece of soul-scribed skin,
from our flesh they flay,
a map they intend to use,
to help them find their forgotten way.
We won’t beg, or plead for the wealthy
our stolen words do the rich mislead,
for though salvation’s map is true,
the needle-eyed gate is one
which rich thieves will never
Peaks of luxury do the wealthy climb,
while down below their workers wade in slime.
With no excess sufficient to their unsated greed,
they’ve let this world slide and slip to seed.
Loud do they their lying anthem proclaim,
“There will always be the needy!
So let them toil and bleed
while upon their labors,
And yet unshuttered eyes easily do see,
the rich have finally gone insane…
Their mad intent?
To keep this broken world,
For their obscene wealth,
the rich feel no shame,
and on the burdened shoulders of the poor,
heap they all blame.
Unwanted garments from their shoulders slough,
gourmet delights uneaten,
left to rot,
till from their banquet tables,
once good food falls with a putrid
sustenance they’ve let turn into
while from hunger
they let the poverty stricken
When will we,
the victims of wealth’s poverty,
from our indentured slavery
turn, not flee?
Follow/Subscribe via Email