Poetic Composition

MADE OR MAID

I was born a blacksmith's son
The lords were adorned by daddy's art
Yet we were despised and spat upon
Like the excreta that followed a lunatic's fart

The ruler lives on the tax of the people
But throws the tax collectors behind bars
Impoverished masses craved meats on their table
So their voted president came from the cattle-rearers

How can the mortuary attendant be my pope?
So that he preaches "Life is yours and do not kill"
When the death of people is his only hope
To eat and stay alive; but can't he really feel?

Why must the wretched kill for a blessing?
Wasn't the charming butterfly once an ugly caterpillar?
Even the earth never stops its revolving
One season for tears; another for laughter

Did you hear of how the lion lost its breath?
Every breathing thing left the forest,
The dangerous killer lion starved to death
Wasn't it the great king, wasn't it the best?

Did you hear of the bull, where is he?
He ate the very birds that ate up his fear
Why did he run into the big sea
If it weren't just flies that chased it there?

Whether the shoes were made for the feet
Or the feet were made for the shoes, whichever.
That life is unfair is no longer a secret
Yesterday's maid is made to be tomorrow's master!

© Milton Emerson, 2018

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