Mice or Men?
You may call this life a rat race
But to me the only rats
Are the ones in spangled uniforms
Or suits and bowler hats
The rest of us are only mice
All chained to life’s tread-mill
While the rats ride on the gravy train
And eat and drink their fill
They are living in the manner
They have grown accustomed to
While the masses pay in blood and sweat
For the lifestyle of the few
They enjoy all of life’s comforts
Never wanting for their needs
While the masses live in penury
Victims of their leader’s greed
To them our fate is just a game
As they play dice with our souls
The masses are expendable
To their power crazy goals
And when the final war arrives
They will be the first to hide
In concrete bunkers down below
While the masses burn outside
Don’t you think it’s time to show them
Whether we are mice or men?
We should put the rats back in their cage
And then try to start again
© Phil Gibson 2011
Written by Phil Gibson, first posted to People's Poetry Bookshelf on 14 April 2013.
View more at Phil's blog, the Garret.
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