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
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