Those Evil Few Poem by John May

With wealth, the likes of Helen's Troy,
There are these few that think they're coy
They seem so modest- but I warn,
Their modesty is but a ploy

They hung two ‘thieves' the other morn-
In fact, the day my son was born.
Their crime: some stolen fruit, some grain …
Two homeless, hungry men forlorn.

I felt indignant, bitter pain,
As I stood watching through the rain:
"If I were starving, like these two,
Would I steal food … and thus be slain?

Who knows how many men they slew-
But here is this, and this is true:
That if they touched my starving son
I'd grab a sword and run them through!

For by their greed their wealth was won …
My wherewithal? - it's next to none.
Those evil few, so fatly fed,
Impoverished me … and everyone! "

And still the hungry hang there dead,
Condemned by laws those few have said.
And now my hunger has me torn:
Obey their laws … or steal their bread?