by Eddie Feldt 2 years ago in sad poetry

Thing I Wrote


They say

He's so


How weird it is

To take

Advantage of him

So put a paper bag

Up over his head

And the conscience

Will be dead

The consequence

Of his reliance

Appliance of defiance

Is how you really get ahead

Applaud the facade of his belief

What a relief his belief

Is what will make him stay

He can succeed or fail

But we'll still win the day

Tell him what to say tell him how to play

They say

He's grown


So it's time

To take

All that power back

Cut him no slack

And take his life

Pretend we gave him a chance

We take his voice

And he has no choice

Without a voice

He got no poise

And without the poise

Surly they won't do what he say

We won't allow him anything but fail

The Petty ends with him

He's the last DJ

Tell him what to say tell him how to play

Don't honor the honesty

Don't trust the truth

Ethical anomaly

Not what we choose

An ethical standpoint

The willingness to share

The helping of others

Yourself is not a care

Don't let it happen

Don't group us in there

We know from experience

It'll lead us to despair

The profits are all we need

Don't invite nobody in

Ones who believe in something higher

Might believe in sin

But we think we are highest

Cover our own skin

While they always struggle

Our money shows we win

sad poetry
Eddie Feldt
Eddie Feldt
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