First Class. Poem by J.A McManus
First Class.
Your clothes, your cars, even your home
We judge success on the things we own
So corrupted and so confused
Young minds getting utterly abused.
Can you not see that we’re all slaves
Working ourselves into early graves?
Working to buy things we don’t need
Caught in the shadow of our own greed.
Obsessed with objects out of reach
Deaf ears don’t hear the words wise men preach?
We must be victims of some hex
As we watch foul adverts of fake sex.
Filling our guts with tainted feasts
Whilst we live like wild, barbaric beasts
Confined in a cage of brick and glass
Whilst the rich live their lives in first class
Excellent distinction between rich and poor and the elusive longing for hope to heal the in-balance of class. The struggle for riches and prestige has not evoked happiness and material greed has put a full stop to this. The rhyming couplet at the conclusion rounds off the philosophy of greed and the rhyme throughout works well with the flow of the poem. Well done! 10 love Karin
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4/25/2024 4:52:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
dear john did'nt I write that ah ah, brilliant understood word the message is quite clear terry read 'the pen' and, conned