The claim to our winnings

in poem •  7 years ago 

As children we’re experts at doing without
Relinquishing even life without a shout
If death is all we’re allowed to be about
By those who tended the garden of We-eden

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Where we were bred, fed and bedded
With whatever gruel happened to rule
The emotional home of our beginnings
Where the good-of-all laid claim to our winnings

When disappointment becomes depressive settle
Adapting to sacrifice’s suicidal kettle
Blame ruthlessly shaming to help the killing
Of our particular recalcitrant willing

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great post i like it@swatt

Thanks for reading through @hiranur

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