I Grow Weary Of This Eternal Fight (Sonnet)

I grow weary of this eternal fight,

Shackled to the rack of banker and coin.

Neither watch out for societies rights,

Instead every turn–a kick to the groin.

Warned of their evil for centuries past,

We heeded their warning ’til memories fade.

Enslave us they must, right on down to the last,

By our sweat and blood until death we have paid.

It stops not here for the cycle goes on,

Our children continue to pay on our debts.

We and our progeny are nothing but pawns,

On whose lives without conscience they’ve all placed their bets.

The greed of our system we claim best in the world,

Quite possibly it would be if the bankers we had hurled.

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~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~