Dirt People
This squalid lot which you bequeathed us
We have made a kingdom of,
And now you foam and foment
When we reject you as the gods above.
We the people of the dirt
United under one banner
Have raised to royalty and decision making
This half-peeled banan-er.
Because everyone that follows a half-peeled fruit
Knows the secrets of eternal youth
And how to argue as inner children
While drinking fermentations of adult truth.
This poem is nonsense now, I know,
But to those that understand, I show
The path is not as lonely as it once had been
And as you cultivate your dirt, we grow.