they are deaf and dumb
wallowing in their make believe sky
scripting fantasies in never never-land
echoing meaningless versions of defunct minds
in aimless throes they seek to stir the mud and debris
of their rancid souls on pallets sane and pristine in spiteful needs
plain to see the eroded ghouls who in pain seeks company to share their miseries
the feral ivories who are not qualified to prosper in the affluent society  
the poor in minds and spirit who can never be at the top tables