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Power Hill



Stuffed shirts and cabbage heads do not suffer as normal people do
They gather gruel in big domed rooms, put on faces, where fake is real,
Promote subliminal assumptions that godlike powers reside in their hands
Yet they themselves are enslaved to the worship of their own positions
Really nothing more than glorified lawyers and sales personnel
Pompous preachers of a church where the clergy steal the most gain
It's difficult to look at them, listen to what they say
Without thinking that something is terribly wrong on Power Hill.



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 642 times
Written on 2013-01-02 at 14:56

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