Who are these creeples
That say we’re special people
Then give us their rules
Make us go to school
Try to change us into sheeples
Too many conform
Broken spirits deform
Feeble the norm
They call the rest freakles
Calm precedes the storm
They put lines in the sand
Arbitrary understand
You need papers to cross
They demand
Without them your loss
They are the boss
Who are these
creeples
That live on the hill
In their mansions with steeples
Look down at the rest
And call them all dweebles
They are greedy in power
Their souls have gone sour
They have no compassion
They are meeples
Not peoples
They think different is bad
One thing is for sure
There’s only one cure
When enough get mad
They will be had
Love love love it! Your imagination continues to spew great stuff!!
ReplyDeleteI couldn't agree more.
ReplyDelete:) great !!
ReplyDeleteGlad you still have your wit and are continuing to practice your poetry. Getting better all the time.
ReplyDeleteThis is great! Fun to read, love your rhyme...and so so true!
ReplyDelete