Victims of Disease

People who attain power
Often use it as they please
Those without a voice cower
Like the victims of disease

While the ravens and the jackals
Feed on living carcasses of state
Incomprehensible drivel's
Grimacing, grotesque faces of late

Waxen mummies parade before some tomb
Stone is broken dust and desert sand
Lots of dummies wandering from the womb
Hate anything hard to understand

Like the victims of disease
Those without a voice cower
Often use it as they please
People who attain power.




Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2015-10-28 at 09:16

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Nancy Sikora
The larger the society, the more disease runs rampant. Sometimes I long for hunter-gatherer days.
2015-10-28