Good fortune comes to those who wait
Those who begrudge, rush to fill their plate.
There is no patience in their oppressed state.
Overflowing with hate and greed
They forget to pass to those in need
And from their mouths drops another seed.
Map your future, make it bright
Just work hard and it’ll be alright.
Ignore all in their infinite plight.
Watch eyes grow small as you rise to the top
Maps in hand; their rise has stopped.
They watch in hopes that you would drop.
Dispirited creatures; in shadows they lurk
Waiting for you to provide them with work.
You shoo them away; you fear their hurt.
Success is a gateway to so many things
For some it’s like they were born with wings.
No matter the method, your self-worship stings.
♦Written for Writing 201: Poetry. Project was an ode to maps. I had no idea what to write; this explains the horror you just read, haha♦