PrivyA Poem by justAnumberPeasants whining, for lack of ability, stomping, tantrums, anti-mobility, Rulers in conference, stacks of stability, counting profits, walking futility. Masses mounding, marching, screaming, collecting clever phrases, scheming, snowball effect, gaining steam and, reinactments out there streaming. Peasants causing a big ol stir extreme, it seems, but just now heard, no other way for change incurred, can't argue success, must concur. Bang for your buck types, gaining acclaim stripes, toss around numbered lives, more intrigued by black ties. Rulers restructure, said fold, throwing the dogs a small bone, just to recycle the mold, arises, in time, behold. Peasants soon disperse, no dent in privy purse, Rulers then coerce, for taxes reimburse.
© 2012 justAnumberAuthor's Note
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Added on January 25, 2012 Last Updated on January 25, 2012 Author
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