Fool's Gold

A Poem by Jesse Booker

Hear the fat cat playing his flute
As I dance and sing in my monkey suit
The children laugh, their parents amused
The cat takes the gold, his soul bemused

“Dance harder, sing louder!” The cat exclaims
“Keep me rich, and you'll be fed!” He explains
I dance with my heart and sing with my soul
For continuous improvement, that is the goal

The cat spares me some gold
And the puppet arrives, loud and bold
“Freedom, freedom! It isn't free!
Give me my cut, or sorry you'll be!”

I take what is left of my gold
To the place where bananas are sold
I grab enough for a week or two
To find that the cat owns those too!

“My bananas are the best to be sold
For the low, low price of the rest of your gold!”
I hand him his gold with a frown on my face
And solemnly leave this corporate place

And here comes the puppet, with friendly advice
“Go to monkey school, that should suffice!
Work hard, study long, and pay your due
Then you can be a fat cat too!”

Who owns the school? Why, the fat cat of course!
But the puppet pays him without fear or remorse
So, I go to school and study long
Working hard to be where I belong

Now I dance with more skill for all to adore
And adorn the cat with more gold than before
The cat gives me more too, to be fair
But along comes the puppet and my despair

“Freedom, freedom! It isn't free!
Give me my cut and your college fee!”
He takes my raise and gives it to the cat
Along with my dreams, just like that

Filled with all the despair and woe I can take
And food filled with poison for profits' sake
I go to the hospital to die in my monkey suit
But the cat owns that too, ain't that a hoot?

He comes to my room, filled with glee
As he hands me a bill and says to me
“Don't you worry, I know the dead can't pay
But I'm sure that your children will find a way.”