I walked the straight and narrow as you bade
and toiled for years to make it to the top;
that upper crust of sweetness that you laid -
mere sugar laced with arsenic in each crop.
How blind I was to miss your hot crusade
not once to see or shout for you to stop.
But I the fool like those who'd come before
neglected to believe you'd want for more.
To all you "haves" and to the one's you've caught,
to those who dare to judge me where I stand,
I bid good day to all you precious lot!
No longer will I work at your demand.
Stripped bare am I and left to dance and rot
amid the rubble of this contraband
with nothing more than tear stains 'neath my eyes
for all your promises that came up lies.
And so, a wiser man have I become
as I remove myself from this affront.
Remorse no longer bids me to succumb
as if I should adhere to bear the brunt.
And those who feel established call me dumb
to step out of this worker-bee's false stunt.
Regrets are just a tool you've used to peel
the livelihood my youth gave you to steal.
Pamela A. Lamppa
Copyright © 2016
All Rights Reserved
Ottava Rima
A Ottava Rima is a poem written in 8-line octives. Each line is of a 10 or 11 syllable count in the following rhyme:
one octive poem. abababcc
two octive poem. abababcc, dededeff
three octive poem. abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii
...so on and so on
Reference: http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/ottavarima.html
