The Gap Named Progress

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The poor are only lazy they do say


To the rich, the impoverished do exist,


But their humanity, night from their day,


A lesser right to live, forced to subsist.


In shanties they live, and stare at mansions,


Not envy; they are past such base feeling;


Sickness breeds in these squalid conditions,


As the wealthy judge from above dealing,


And other such desperate acts they deem


Immoral and damn them for their bad Fate.


The luckless live day to day, but kings gleam,


And fuss o’er their spoils they gleaned through hate.


Progress they claim; this is fairness, they hiss;


To whom? I’d rather feel Death’s kiss than this.    

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