diluted glut

diluted glut

What is this state we call monarch,
a word poverty, what does it mean.
Can we eat a monarch’s left over’s,
so making the word poverty, clean.

I can’t see beyond monarchs first letter,
when it’s meaning fills me with outrage.
No one should be thinking their better,
than any creature they’d kill to assuage.

Should we just discard the infirm or ageing,
helping only those we deem to be an equal.
Shall a monarch applaud these ways discerning,
assuming we’ve been groomed to their will.

This person in poverty haven’t they no sense,
of utter despair when hearing their child cry.
Are their dreams, desires and hopes pretence,
their aspirations of being an equal, a lethal lie.

Does this monarch believe there’s a god,
or is it invention to keep the poorest in line.
So telling tales of angels with a wink and a nod,
making they’re heaven here on earth so divine.

But what of those who oppress then wave flags,
as this monarch rides past with such disdain.
Pleased at having the guile to employ these lags,
that strike all who would rebel to the chain.

I’m afraid freedom or chain is not my choice,
for persons of true conscience can’t be led.
By leaders or monarch who won’t hear their voice,
while poverty is insipiently given it’s head.