A Remorseful Queen

Blessed is the lamb led to the slaughter -Eager smiles, cold visage -I give truth to your mirage -You have a golden ticket -You have a chance to make your way -A windowless room, I leave you there to pray Worker ant is disposable -The doors are fastened shut -A lock you'll never cut -The queen reeks of profit margins -The triangle is ablaze -Your endless numbered days Surrender your huddled masses yearning to breathe free -Give me your tired -Perishable by fire -Illiterates can’t read the fine print -Give me your poor -too dead to keep score And I will pretend The queen who is my friend Had no idea why the front doors were locked And the room had no windows And I will defend To uncertain ends There but for the grace of God goes Me In empathy for the worker, and the queen