The Opulent
The Playground of the Opulent
Today we drove to a posh enclave in Algarve
where the rich live sheltered behind tall walls,
pristine roads were empty not a speck of dust.
They came here to seek privacy not wanting to
the everyday activities of ordinary people and
what they got is loneliness and despair behind
beautiful facades; everyone is a stranger there
is no community in this disinfected hellhole.
This is a striking place has expensive golf courses,
a simple sport with a stick and a ball has become
the only interest for many who are dedicated to
what is the ultimate of infantile pastime. To keep
this place pristine there is a posse of uniformed
men, I think they are there as penitentiary guards.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
