Tuesday, May 21

An ode to Simon Wilson

Amidst the towers of wealth, they stand, With opulence beyond the reach of hand, Their coffers overflowing, hoarding gold, Yet blind to truths that cry to be told.

They feast on caviar and finest wine, While cries of struggle fall on ears malign, Oblivious to the workers’ plight, Their privilege veils them from the light.

In mansions vast, they dwell apart, From common struggles, hearts grow hard, Too rich to fathom the suffering mass, Their souls encased in gilded glass.

They speak of charity, a noble guise, Yet fail to see the hunger in their eyes, Their philanthropy just a hollow show, A masquerade, a superficial glow.

Too rich to see the systems that bind, That keep the poor enslaved, confined, Their wealth amassed through cunning schemes, Denying others of their dreams.

They claim to champion the cause of all, But their true intent, a curtain call, Behind the scenes, the strings they pull, To maintain power, their bellies full.

Their pockets lined with lobbyist’s gold, They dance with politicians, bought and sold, In halls of power, they wield great sway, While honest voices are pushed away.

The Left cries out for equity and change, But their influence, these rich arrange, Their contributions tainted, tainted whole, For truth and justice pay a toll.

To Left-wing politics, they claim to cling, But their riches silence the songs they sing, Too entrenched in privilege, they lose the fight, Their wealth a barrier, blocking the light.

So let us strive for a fairer day, Where wealth’s excess does not hold sway, For meaningful change to take its place, The rich must step back from their throne’s embrace.