Elite's Pawns- creative writing (therapy)

The system whittles at our cores 

Dividing lives into perfect divisions, caged in. 

Before the crumbs, stoning others first your chore

March -

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed-

March

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed-

And there in the road lays the others, in the streets they bleed. 

The blood of wounds created by division, false illusions of need..

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed- 

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed-

The Bling sits high in a mirrored tower,

counting bodies like coins,

smiling at the rhythm as the bodies cower. 

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed- 

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed-

His tarnished gold has taught the street.

Every dropped crumb is a command,

every hunger  pain a rap to his beat.

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed- 

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed-

The pawns devour one another

pushed by a growl in their own bellies,

never noticing their fellow brother- 

laid out behind the throne.

March—

Throw—

Stomp—

Feed—

Look down:

the road is a red chessboard,

pawns bleeding on black and white squares

"now do it with hate's flair!" 

March—

Throw—

Stomp—

Feed-

And when the last pawn falls,

chest caved in by a brother’s boot,

the king will shrug,

sweep the board clean,

and begin the next game

with fresh meat.

Feed…

…on nothing.

Stomp-

Feed- 

Oh that battle cries of a rich man's greed. 

Only it is the pawns who does Evil's deed. 

March-

Throw-

Stomp-

Feed- 

Original Saturday evening coffee spew- 

Be Well 💜💜💜

Photo -AI