To Mark The Day Poem by Jasmine Shipp

To convince the wise of her good deeds is nothing but true,
And like a plague she manages her task.
But not due to myself or my fellow friends, there is but one she aims to control.
With a laugh I was once so fond of that now begs tears to be shown,
She grips her peasant by the throat with little force, and sits upon her throne.

She listens to no one, but her leader as she attempts to follow in footsteps,
Controlling the mind of the weak while my allies watch in disgrace.

To believe you know Knowledge in his old age is nothing but futile if one lacks the proper years,
And in some moments even years are at a loss.
But to think yourself greater than so many others is the worst fault of all.
To not only believe, but know as fact that you are higher than all the rest.
This is nothing that can be torn for it is buried deep in her copper chest.

And dare not wish her to her knees, for is she falls she will scratch at those above.
Who knows better than this crown wearing crow that being down alone marks the lowest of the low?

So here be advising from one not too wise, leave the unwanted to those that want it and don’t look back.
Step over the fallen with eye piercing caution,
For those that bottom feed are the worst to know, and by all means the first to go.
Not to death or other places undesired, but to an empty space where nothing bleeds or smiles.
Where only one loves her miserable ways, and pays close attention to her careless days.
As she crawls on her knees as a bottom feeder and kisses the feet of her golden leader.