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*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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