you got nothing…

you got nothing

the brown bag prophet
was taking in
the day’s beauty
while standing
near the edge
of the city park
when
a gold-chained
young buck
reproached him
commenting on
his
poverty
the brown bag prophet
said
i generally
don’t discuss
such issues
with those
who are still
wearing the chains
of slave masters
but
you’ll be
my
exception
you
pursue
the bait
of wealth
like a fish
just about
to swallow
the worm covered hook
ignorant
to
the consequences
of actions
me
everything
i value
is free
and
provided
by the almighty

locust….

 

winged lies
devour
youth’s memories
leaving
an adult
with
nothing more
than a field of vanity
barren of emotions
and
no seeds of joy