The Crooked Line.
The wheels of bureaucracy grind deep and slow
enmeshing the simple man as he twists and writhes
beneath the crushing vice, unable to avoid
the spreading algae of greed and vice of
those who are never satisfied.
Even the straw he grasps drags him down
Further into depths unknown
From elite position he is crammed into
Levels below, dark chasms, not fit for human existence.
Crawling, begging, having lost everything
He watches helplessly as fellowmen plummet and crash.
Where is the hand to squash this vile, he wonders,
to balance the scale of justice.
When will every man get his fair share
Why do the rich get richer.. the poor poorer.
Looking through the window of time…will he ever find
That soothing balm of equality and justice
Or will his fate be ever decided by that crooked line that exists
between greed and need?
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