Death Has The Most To Gain Poem by James McLain

When death is the truth and by them, we are kept in the dark
never knowing
what I've known in one life was but my very small part.
Then I've known it's true measure ever more fully, even as I am unknown.
No one cares about your old mother, your father long ago died in their jails.
Yea though in thought your unthinking children by them caught
taught by you in their steel toothed traps
having been set where only the blind knowing their place would not tread.
What you have learned no teacher taught futile is your fight against
their grinding machine
designed by the weak you think of them strong with no place in their world
good money you paid to keep you all down
never to know your true place
here comes new painfull ways to die their slow deaths
having the gall to ask it of you to please die a little more quickly.
Should you not know that by closing your eyes
that those white haired old white men that lived off your lives
and have deemed your lives insignificate and your deaths are legal
and quick and humain.