Please Tip Your Waiter
Money licks its lips
A fervour without bound it rips
Feeding on the rich with etiquette and poise
The middle classes swallowed with grumbled noise
And screaming poor not even savoured
From a beast thats never laboured
The earth lays daily a new tablecloth
For the feast where all humanity is lost
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2018
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