We decimate everyday
amidst affluence -
wealth thrown about
at launching halls.
We are cajoled to knell
at alter of penury
where they beg us tarry
to watch our fingers peel.
We decimate everyday,
amidst abundance,
yet tak collectors' vaults
flourish with crispy notes
We wait for vultures
to come scoop our carcasses
we wait for thunder knuckles
to come - our heads.
We wither in penury amidst plenty
in a land lush and green
that now lay waste, abandoned.
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