They forget pain, forget sorrow,
Then live in the dark, pluck hairs,
For that perfect look of tomorrow,
They sick their dog on the poor, the immigrant,
The downtrodden, the scapegoated. They give no
Honest time to what the less fortunate have in store,
They continue to work themselves for many an hour,
Pick up where they left off happy and content,
That all who oppose them will lose any help
In bringing them down from their cloud of power,
Then they take whatever they were after, laugh,
Chop off any hand or cut off that which "offends,"
That stands in the way and slows them down,
They will get what they are after and be the
Most "handy helpers" helping themselves around.
