Seventh hour

The summer flowers will open bright and wide,
Into a world that they will in time despise,
Whereas the suited man will happily sell his lies,
To feed off of the future misery of those less wise,
The humble soul will be truthful and free from pride,
Only to be greeted by an untimely demise,
Whereas the greed possessed will nurture a guise,
And then successfully steal away the prize.

poem by Christian Lacdael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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