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Fat kings
They laugh
while you complain
indulging in the dough
made of your sweat, and tears, they're out
for blood.
they sit
On their gold throne
fattened off the harvest
of hard labor by those who truly
invest.
Heart pressed
your sleeves rolled up
to allow more sunshine
that another might fare better with
their life.
They stand
right by your side
but not to support you
They wait for your sweat, tears and blood
to pour.
Your aim
has not been reached
your heart has felt the pain
of deception; while you complain
They laugh.
Cinquain suite © 06.05.12
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