Sliding forth from their schools and their
colleges, their ancient bedecked halls;
still these wretched noble scions are
heading into limousines soft lined,
grasping for power. Each imbued with
lust for glory; rapacious like a young tiger.
How can we pull out rugs
from under privilege and
with avenging trumpets shake their
insolence? Tumble down the walls
of undeserved unearned wealth with
determination and yet with level heads
without acrimony or taint of
dishonour cast them into the past like trophy horns of bison.
penwithlit 