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Poem

The Government's poor depressing me.
Depressing me with looks.
Their lack of spirit just angers me.
My happiness gone to crooks.

They're vagrants at the corner stop
with cardboard signs in hand.
And begging for my money saved
that I'm more shamed than grand.

The government's pets surrounding me
on leashes made of shame.
When passing me out on the street
have made me feel some blame.

They're bumming things from everyone
and never seem to rest.
And still I'm saying no to them:
to every governed pest.

They're gathered 'round the city shelters.
Huddled into groups.
Confused as to just where to stand:
desperate longing snoops.

They're smiling with their wretched teeth.
Neglected broken smiles.
They haunt me like it's Halloween
and dare me with their guile.

I brace myself for more to come:
the government's poor collection.
In truth I must concede to them
as government forced inflection.

Now, I myself can see in them
the need for preservation
To keep the price of housing down
and save from reservation.

But truly; I can speak my mind
and make my money count.
While government's poor are scaring me
and I as soon surmount.

By chance I swear to knowing them:
my soul a governed roam.
That one day I'll redeem in them
the poor that I call home.

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