*Illustration reference: Photographer, Efcarlos
I do not suffer fools too lightly
Sitting, writing, whinging, nightly
Lamenting how to pot we’ve gone
It’s tiresome, how it goes on
Just when I think it can’t get worse
We fly off course, it’s like a curse
How can a species so endowed
Let reason be browbeat and cowed
Mistake our greed as good intention
On other’s backs rise to ascension
That wealth, control and dominance
Between the pauper and the prince
Is so askew, it boggles mind
Fair shake is view you will not find
How unconstrained this schism’s grown
We’ve let these noxious seeds get sown
So that we’re left with toxic harvest
Beleaguered those that work the hardest
Emptied pockets, malcontent
We wonder what the prophet’s meant
Though warning us of fatal pride
With hubris off the cliff we’d ride…
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