Capitalism is fair.
Though capitalists be well bred.
The poor can only care
That they should sometimes be fed.
The rent they pay to capital
Exceeds the nation's rate of growth.
People are mere collateral
When fortunes begin to bloat.
The masses may start to shout.
Though the rich intend to die out,
Inheritances  never croak.
Inequality learns to cope.

In a cast of merry men,
Was a man who could not hold
His drink in the hours past ten
Or a sneeze against the winter's cold.

But in the morning he was bold.
He walked naked in the sun.
And if his fate could be told,
His life was nearer to done.

He'd leave behind a daughter and son.
But not the mother that loved them.
The sooner his race be won.
The sooner she be behind him,

To drag his hide back home
And warm him to the bone.
He lay like the pig in the sun.

In the engulfing tempest rain,
No honest question I would deign.
Why dampness left another stain
Upon the rust of heavy chains?
For my heart was already slain
Confronting indifference's reign
Alongside the petty and the vane.
For this love had already lain
With the ugly and the insane.
My passion had been drained,
With my back against the cane.
The injuries made me strain.
I hobbled just to remain.
Repetition had beat the same
Until the scars became plain:
You will never love again.
You cannot wash away the pain.