A Poor Man's Ode
A poor man's work for a poor man's wages.
In a poor man's home a poor man ages.
All that's worth living been hidden away.
All that's been giving; a land of gray.
His honor's been shaved, and adventure depraved.
His spirit enslaved till the day of his grave.
His body still toils, filling pockets of spoiled,
While his brain starts to boil. His earnings aren't loyal.
These treasons are torn from seasons of scorn,
Misleadings forlorn, these reasons are born:
Off that he should feed, his countrymen bleed,
And in spite of his need it's governing greed.
With excessive hoards in a sea of the poor,
Who are being ignored, just what's it all for?
-Andrew J. Golubiewski-
In a poor man's home a poor man ages.
All that's worth living been hidden away.
All that's been giving; a land of gray.
His honor's been shaved, and adventure depraved.
His spirit enslaved till the day of his grave.
His body still toils, filling pockets of spoiled,
While his brain starts to boil. His earnings aren't loyal.
These treasons are torn from seasons of scorn,
Misleadings forlorn, these reasons are born:
Off that he should feed, his countrymen bleed,
And in spite of his need it's governing greed.
With excessive hoards in a sea of the poor,
Who are being ignored, just what's it all for?
-Andrew J. Golubiewski-
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