Old Malthus's Sun

This is a commentary piece on Thomas Malthus's Malthusian theory. Analyse and take it as you will :) !

“Old Malthus’s Sun” by Rika

In his worn and torn shoes the poor boy walks,

his calloused hands hiding him from the Sun.

He dares not gawk at the Higher Beings or anyone.

His world is small---even to the air, he barely talks.

Her world is big---even to the press, she speaks.

In heels she prances with pink-powdered cheeks.

And when she trips over her heels, behind

the girl, Help will be the first in line.

One day the ghost of Old Thomas floats by,

a fated encounter one can’t decline.

Without choice, the poor boy invites him to dine.

Tom leaves him a Gift, then takes to the sky.

Tom returns to her doorstep, greeting her with a smile.

She takes one look, shrugs, and calls him senile.

As punishment, he gifts her a Curse, calling it the Sun,

says that although she is High, she cannot run.

The poor boy sits there,

alone and confused.

Then suddenly,

Pain

pierces him

and he gasps.

A Burning ache

throbs

in her heart

and she gasps.

Down from her scalp,

a thick

red

trail oozed.

He sways and he bleeds, his eyes now bloodshot,

and more and more and more, the poor boy screams.

Yet no one is there to curse old Malthus’s schemes.

His face contorts in pain, his body Hot, Hot, Hot.

Her eyebrows crease, her body Hot, Hot, Hot.

Dozens of doctors flock around her cot.

Her mother beside her, holding her hand,

bartering with doctors, a cure for their lands.

Yet the end was inevitable, as Old Malthus knew.

The population must be controlled, it didn’t matter who.

The boy and the girl will die either way,

and the Sun will always rise at the start of the day.

Author's Note

written: Mar 2025