Usury Poem by Peter Black

Usury



Now you come to me—
Fools, I have always known
And warned you in carved stone.
Though fools think fools try to speak
Of matter pride, envy, greed;
You, they turn from what should be heard;
So you see many ignorant in the world.

A year, a day, time has unveiled at last,
The strings and credited debt,
The numbers, prices, shaded fees,
And you all give cries of Usury
And pay your tuition and interest tax.

But where have been your eyes and ears:
In the sky, the dark, the screen
Where only relief a thought brings,
In an image of sex or violent acts.
As the bills are split and spread,
You now hope for hope and justice to decry,
'Begone Monopoly and Usury.'

You shook the hands that profiteered,
Cleaned the nails on fingers that gouged,
And ignored the excess of numbered fees,
Saying, 'Shut up fool, I care not,
'For matters pride, envy, and greed, '
To shop at stores with foreign goods,
Made by men on distant shores,
Sold on shelves to you hungry hordes,
While rich men undo their belts
And poor folks dig flour and rice,
From bags and the corners of cupboard shelves.

Now you curse on Usury,
While I curse on your ignorance
Of pride, envy, and greed.

Monday, December 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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