Let someone tell me,
how best they could be burst,
these banks of rubbish,
where every penny vanishes,
where the age-long bounty
plunges into the abyss of the filthy pit.
Let me with words
Pouring out of my pen
decipher the code,
leading to the vault
and break open,
our luxuries,
our bounties,
our freedom,
of which we’ve been deprived,
at which we’ve looked,
and or which we’ve suffered.
I will with my pen,
tell it to their faces
the pain we’ve been through,
the paths we’ve walked through,
where we have trodden face-down,
where we have stumbled,
over and over again,
vying for no gain.
They’ve watched us
with wide mirth
adorning their faces in our mockery.
But our awaited time, soon
Shall catch up with
the stern bloated faces,
when our laughs shall come last,
and then last forever.
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