it hurts to write a final line like this...but in this case i mean it.
half a million tax free...
madame!!


Legarde

Christine
You say I must tighten my belt
Want my waist cinched so tight
Breath becomes a fight and life
Itself is this doleful existance.
I'm too poor to buy belts Christine. A mere
One of your scarves would keep my family
Alive for a month and beyond so do not preach
To me about taxes avoided and do tell me about
Your own situation tax-wise do.
You seem to know all about ours
So tell me all about you.

Belts are due to be let out a notch.
I am eyeing up some rope and practicing knots.
You Christine and your ilk should think
About the sound of your own voices.
How dare you compare one poor child to another
As you spit on us all from above?

I really hope you are scorned in the future.



Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 575 times
Written on 2012-05-26 at 06:49

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