Impoverished Prosperity Poem by Long Tooth

I've always felt prosperous till Satan's Trumps,
They're American pirates and wh*res: Worship 'Lust! '
Now I've ash on my face, and my gold smells like rust.
Institutions we trusted, have raped or dead umps.

The weak ape the rich and are quite willing tools.
Even though, with 'redistricting, ' voting's just game,
For sure, people who write the rules aren't feeling shame!
Nouveau riche, brainwashed savoir-faire, don't know they're fools.

America's traitors cut tax for the rich,
Even though they're not there yet, they hope to join ranks,
But the rich are amused by this, tell them 'No thanks! '
'You just sold out your brothers! Fools! Back to your ditch! '


Long Tooth
November 12,2017