Vicious Cycle Poem by Tiffanie Lein

Chances come to those who grab
But grab they can with more greenback;
Minions round who dress in drab
Brains a waste, if lucre lacks.

False! They cry, they do not know
The rich they buy their way to riches
Wealth breeds wealth, and more they grow,
'xcess chance to streets the butler pitches.

Throw upon that bit of hope,
Kill and fight for my own right.
Lil' we know, Chance's frought with dope
Despite belief, we're without might.

There it goes, back round the bend,
Despite our toil, it never ends.

31 March 2008
for cheems