Mr. Presidential just died
and his mother fell and cried
and his father went to hide.
For he knew that Mrs. Presidential had lied!
She was having an affair with the father on the stairs
that led up in a spiral
to a place endemic to all
dark and havoc inducing people!
…but let’s talk in a whisper
because nobody knows about her
and she had very secret endeavors
only known by her Big Brother.
So many told to her Big Brother that they made him grow big!
Too big that he smothered his own children he had already rigged
for a bright future.
Sons were the perfect suitors;
daughters the graceful wooees
for wooers that said “Ooowhee!”,
but only the right ones;
therefore the ripe sons.
They were ripe so white
that Big Brother made them set for flight.
So ripe rigged rich
and white was whipped for making life a cinch,
and waif children like me
were locked up. We couldn’t flee
from the burdens brought down
by perfect sons and daughters that wore the crown.
We were left to rot like we were nothing
until over time we tried to do something.
We got our pickets; started to chant
for our lives we wanted to recant.
Too little, too late; we started off too dumb.
We JUST started consuming our pabulum
which was equivalent to some
Grandfather who couldn’t control his son.
His stupid son, wayward boy, neglectful father!
Maybe he will realize his wrong doings after
we light our pickets on fire
and burn ourselves out of our chains.
The fire will spread melting their gold; ridding our pain.
Our ashes will stay as soil to remember
the day we brought on a world wide macabre
where the rich became poor
and the poor became dead,
but the dead rest in peace, so we’re already ahead
like Mr. Presidntial who has just died
and his mother who followed.
She was murdered
by his father who drew the weapon on both
because his son the insubordinate
was coddled by his mother who treated him kindly for being impertinent.
Mrs. Presidential had the only sense.
She ran down the spiral stair case, changed her name and sent
her own father a letter also telling him the story;
the same man who told me of how our world lost it’s glory.