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At the Hands of Greed (Original Poem)

January 16, 2017







Written by @linzo

Down the grinded abyss my dues I pay

Where men and mice meet for supper’s play

A scampering rhythm for the meal of the day

Boundless battlefields where plenty lay


Quenchless thirst, an offering of wine

To intoxicate the ungrateful binge

In gallops that halt a groaning whine

Table averting response of revolting cringe


A hunter hunting on a full stomach

Giving a new meaning to need

In a harvest that churns the food to match

Feeding belching appetites to greed


Bins tuned upside down with plenty

As need surpasses the disease of want

A never-ending route to pervert the bounty

In a world where the working feed the queen ant


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