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Politics
Doing a favor for someone you despise
Motivation moves you, but hate propels you, Delivering the work, but can't look into their eyes; Sanctity of meaning, but the receiver is shit under your shoe. Tell me, is this the meaning of life or just some politics? Working for the people with means, means that you're a slave, Driving at a breakneck pace, suits, wives, they're outfitted pricks, And some call this a life. How can it be true? Dismiss me with a wave? Then ask me back again when there's more to be done? A beck and call boy? Slaps and faces stung, an operation of fools, But everybody dies. I see it when I look in their eyes, then I've won, I've got one on you. I'll go out in peace when my conscience is clear, not in bloody pools. All of you are fools. All of you are fools. All of you are fools. © 2014 Nicholas Emeigh |
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Part of the group "Record-A-Poem," and part of the Playlist "The Poetry of Nicholas Emeigh" which includes 40+ other poems.
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Notes: This poem was written on Saturday, February 22, 2014. It's about politics. What politics REALLY is. What it REALLY means.
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