• The Fate of Man
    By: StarryIdGrl

    A man stands patiently in line.
    The time is late, ‘bout half past nine.
    The bowls are filled with molten goo,
    The cooks decide to call it stew.
    His stomach growls
    His baby howls
    His eyes are sunken, dark and bleak
    His arms are useless, frail and weak.
    As he reaches the front his eyes light up,
    His hands reach unsteadily for the cup.
    A man steps forward, pushing him away
    “Go to the back of the line, and that’s where you should stay.”
    The darkened color of his skin,
    Guarantees that he won't win.
    His head is bowed,
    His spirit cowed.
    He goes to find a safer place
    To rest his head and hide his face.
    His children will go another day
    With nothing to eat and nowhere to stay.
    Equality is a blessed thing
    It allows children to play and people to sing.
    ‘Equality for all’ the paper declares,
    But what about when temper flares?
    And people are not treated fairly
    Even if it is only rarely.
    ‘Liberty and Justice for all’ the paper states,
    And this one thing decides our fates.