Midas

Pull the cap off

What will you write today?

An odious ode

Of men sold to gold

That smell of things so old

Their story is no longer told

Pens of blue, black, and red

Ink flowing from your head

Scratching lyrical limericks

On sheets of papyrus

You’re the highest of the high

You’ll never die

Born of the sky

Why do they try?

To put a cap on you

Swimming through

The pool of knowledge

Can’t be mistaken

You’ve taken nothing of gold

Your life is sold

Filling their coffers

Feeling your coffin

You’re sold

Now take your class and struggle

To reach the edge

Of the bubble

Funding mass enigma

One day it will be molding

In a lost house

Never to be told

Not so bold

Drowning in success

Pass their test

Who’s the best?

Mastering skills of cutting pills

Giving you chills

To see the thrilling killing

Piling bodies

Of files

A child smiling with no teeth

Baring feet beat to the bone

Take a ride in their home

Mother moaning

Doctor can’t cure

Can’t be sure

There’s insurance

But there’s no assurance

In the coming day

You'll pay

Maybe your life

Your wife

Selling your child’s life

To Freedom's knife

So stifling

Almost do the Right’s thing

Can’t fly with one wing

Hear the ching-ching

It’s your clink

Think you know?

What was sought?

Bought by lying, dying, and false trying

Leave you crying

Think you’re trapped in suburbia

Know one has heard of you

Fooling with the human mule

Watch him toil

You’re not him

Yet you are

Hide it like a scar

Telling yourself

You’ve got wealth

But you have nothing

So my boy

Put it down

Walk away

Before you pay the price

Forgive me for this divisively decisive vice verse

It’s my blessed curse

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