It matters not,
How much money one's got.
Or perceived influence,
Dripping with prestige and status...
Shared exclusively amongst the elite.
Once a precious egg thought to be,
A prized trophy that sits atop...
One's mantelpiece,
To be picked up to caress.
Yet carelessly...
From hands gloved in velvet,
It falls and shatters to pieces.
No one...
Regardless how high,
On pretentiousness they sit...
Can uncrack to put back what had been
Claimed precious.
'Oh, my God!
What have 'we' foolishly done? '
-No intended offense.
But, uh...
You went for it.
Had us stand back.
While you boasted and bragged.-
'Okay...okay. Don't rub it in.
We have to find someone to fix this.
That egg has to get back,
Into its shell.
I don't want to be accused,
Of stupidity.'
-Honoring your last statement made.
And dismissing it said.
Even if it was camouflaged.
The devastation.
Who do you believe would rush,
To assist...'us'.
After we campaigned...
Calling everyone names.
And offending them.
Who...is on that list.
You did not piss off? -
'Will you stop being so negative.
I don't know why you would think,
Everyone is crazed with animosity.
And...towards me?
That's ridiculous.
I may have attracted a few,
Disgruntled detractors.
But I am certain my insults,
Were not taken seriously.
And...
What is that glass breaking sound,
I keep hearing? '
-I think its the servants you fired.
Replacing the old China,
For a new set you ordered...
To be ready before you interview...
Others you told them would be,
Hopefully far more competent.-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem