Blessed Are Those Amongst The Poor Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Blessed are the ones,
Amongst those poor.
Knowing they have become,
Overseers of pawns for the rich.
And using their plight,
To pocket more wealth.
As they slam mahogany doors,
Upon the ones they have leached.
While paying no taxes,
Back to inner cities where they work.
Snack on eats from a leeching.
To then leave to live luxuriously.
In suburban towns with nice clean streets.
And heard to compare themselves,
To the ones poor; suffering.
The ones they ignore and loving this to see.
It's a quick fix of ecstasy.
Because they have a need,
To feel better about themselves.
High on a majority imposing cloud.
And blessed are those amongst the
poor,
With a self righteousness to keep...
Felt everyday when they leave,
The poor to stay for them that way.
And free not to feel amongst them for real.

"Ugh!
I can't imagine the oppression.
I mean, seriously...
Who today is impressed by that?
Would you like another cup.
Or should I brew a fresh pot? "

Drive in to do a 9 to 5.
Drive out to do no more than view.