From Atop the Pillar

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Nov 28, 2004
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Fishing with John
From Atop the Pillar


While those that toil below him
Must struggle for their meal
He who sits atop the pillar
Wallows in his weal

He cares not for their sorrows
For his are picayune
He knows not of their struggle
Nor their impending doom

And when those who dwell beneath
Begin the lengthy climb
He knocks them down with laws and coin
Their attempt, itself, a crime

His days are filled with acquisition
His nights, debauchery
While those who suffer in the streets
Are left with misery

But unrest grows in those beneath
And the time is soon to come
When we the proletariat
Will stand shining in the sun
 
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