If I did not know
how desperately they need  the release
I would not be feeling sorry for them
in the absence of noble birth grace and talent
tell me what could be worse
than knowing and seeing
that exquisite rich flavoursome high quality chocolate
shining enticingly beyond their stunted reaches
is that not enough to curse drooling slimy tongues
and smite hungry glassy gazed eyes
or maddened boiled brains into combustible trash
whipping vituperate noises and ugly hisses from ugly minds
when cocoa blooms in lush green emerald isles
and red roses of the land hang limply and lack vim and lustre
what befalls but finding solace in vilifications
desperate topical hatred for tropical bloom in radiant rays
its hard not to feel sorry for them
in nobility lives compassion and grace
as heathens trample in mud and muck in **** show at the garden fete
chocolate gleams on polished silver platter alongside a silver spoon
beyond the maddened reaches and burning hate of
labourers hicks vandals scoundrels and the village idiots
If I did not know
how desperately they need  the release
I would not be feeling sorry for them