
Of a gluttonous superior
lies a lonely inferior
lit to an inferno of devastating pain,
to balance of self relief and life,
passion to love
the desire for riches,
guilty to struggle,
Beggars can’t be choosers.
It’s a nightmare,
Caged to walls over walls.
A peasant’s toil and moil,
pale blue to the hustle
dying of a chronic state,
heavenly blue to the master,
Nature dammed him,
Craving for riches
Forgetting to live,
It’s depressing ain’t it?
It’s a hollow existence,
A deep pit of mere suffering,
Tearing apart and breaking piece by piece,
To survive to the last moon, fed on by the mosquitoes
awake the morning’s sun, rumbling empty bellies.
So, when a poor man’s dreams get warm and cozy,
Let me have a dance with the angels,
Have a moment above the stars,
Life’s brutally unfair,
Rare to find those that care,
Humor me then once more
For hope is all we bear,
Light my sky blue,
feed my life, let thy colors be true.
Believe.
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