How Greed Ties Shoes

You don’t know

how to tie your shoes;

your information spews

from sycophant’s news.


A soul that festers

in love with it’s reflection

is too toxic to receive

true love and affection.


I guess you need feed

off of golden trimmed plates.

Others arrive early to eat,

you arrive fashionably late.


Your presence begs

to steer clear of beggers.

The place you desire

is in your golden treasures.


Go call your maid to

tie those gilded shoes.

I’ll give you not pleasures

of praises no not for you.


Go ride your plane,

crying, “Off with their heads.”

Your soul stinks of greed

so much your empathy is dead.

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