Jock Engelman
Instant Opinons Of The Upper Class (The Judged, Judging the Judge)
As you stare with your cold grey eyes you judge;
I know your instant opinon won't budge;
Your lined and sagged face hide what's within;
Make up covered nostrils all raised and flared;
My ears bleed from sounds of your false laugh shared;
Cringing as the high pitch pierces my ears;
Don't whine your the ones who raised all of us;
T'was jus a smack you say, what is the fuss;
Plain amazing how you can still think this;
While I can smell your expensive coffee;
You sip it with plain disregard for money;
A lack of empathy for all in poverty;
I know, go on, send me to the gallows;
Upper class? Can you really be this shallow;
Alone I see how you are so alouf;
Skin, Body and Hair art doesn't mean we Sin;
We bleed blood, we bleed emotions, we bleed kin;
And yet, here I sit, judging you myself;
https://truml.com