Gains
Gains
What gains
May be had by the common,
As we gaze upon the year
Thrust at us?
An impossibility
Of forward momentum
With the piles of gold in our way.
Toadish figures squat heavy on their lucre,
Soft in the belly,
Soft in the mind,
Hard in the heart.
Their disdain
Is spoken in their every utterance,
For all of their talk centers internally.
Yet they have use for you, citizen,
As they acquire
And fail to release their plunder,
They count on you and me,
To buy product,
And swell their coffers.
O glad expenditure!
Adorn me in plastic!
Swaddle me in cheap synthetics!
I am your GMO groupie!
For I am promised better healthcare –
Soon…
Two weeks away,
From the last two weeks…
I am promised all the things!
Until it becomes less profitable.
I am the common,
And maybe I matter.
Cliff Lake 1/1/2025
Copyright © Clifford Lake 2025
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