Have Nots

They dance in darkness, poke fun at the workers,
Who polish their floors and shine their shoes,
For whom without there would be no circus
Just doom and gloom in the invisible ink
Sung to the melody of the unelected elite
Champagne flutes chime as laughter cries
As the God of the people reveals no after life
Chasing the shadows that loiter over heads
To catch the ghosts within a slow and painful death
Work to death to live, the irony
Eat like kings in the slums we’re set to expire in
Idolise thieves, we want what you’ve got
Demonise kings for what they have, we have not
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