Blinded We Are Poem by Alfred Barna

Blinded we are by madness
For madmen will use every scheme to enslave
Surrounded we are by sadness
For worry, work, and willfully we are lead to the grave
For every advantage we seek
Over our neighbor, foreigner, and remote men unseen
Our hearts are no longer meek
For greed, lust, envy, and strife have a shiny glean
We want the road paved with riches and fame
While we expect others to travail the course and broken roads
We want the laurels and pedestals of name
Undeterred of the multitudes who have unheralded the hefty loads
Freemen roam still, without earthly king
They are the wizened, who bow only to the Creator of this earth
It is they who through their labors sing
Knowing full well, that they have been given treasures by birth
Which no one can snatch from their hands
The common man wishes to be a peace with all who breathe
Whether near or living in foreign lands
But bide the money lenders who find the chance to deceive
Poking a hornets nest at every turn for profit sake
For they make the guns for wars, the heroin to soothe, or lucre for their laws
Which turn their coffers full, and our pennies they take
Yet we are blinded still, and we never truly find their cause