They will laugh,
as we knock on their door.
They will laugh,
as we do all the dying at war.
They will laugh,
like there’s nothing to care about,
They will laugh,
because those with cash have clout.
Their grin will turn into a smile,
when the wins become less.
Their laugh with turn to snicker,
with the first sign of distress.
Their wonder will turn to a mild horror,
as their empire evaporates like a tree.
Their pockets will eventually empty themselves,
by the rest of us giving and doing most everything for free.
dead beat poet 