The Queue of exhausted starving people
snaked back over many streets
edging its way along at a snail’s pace
just to receive a loaf of bread
soldier patrolled showing no respect
had no choice but to accept!
Once smart clothes shabby and worn
but wore an identity label
nobody talked or dared show emotion
money had become worthless
for the once working classes despair
their dignity stripped bare!
Marshall law stopped looting and riots
money had no value anymore
towns and cities lay in ruins and gutted
from fires and bomb damage
the stench of sewage death and smoke
made everybody choke!
The rich had been hidden safely away
in vast walled enclaves
their lives protected and unaffected
looking down like gods
upon the now decimated population
in a world of damnation!
But within this prophesy created hell
a brilliant light on a young man fell!
The Foureyed Poet.