Testimony to the Selfish Herd

Pecuniary progress runs too slow,
For such simple a folk as I,
Our minds are tethered to worries and cares,
That we ease with promising lies.

Sustenance suffices our brazened guts,
But only when it is here,
For long the feast is sadly not,
And adds another fear.

Happiness claims through fortunate aims,
Those of a class more divine,
We sit and rock, on porches and docks,
And dream of a life more sublime.

No pains so great, no body too wrought,
As to warrant a healing collage,
For currency comes not to conform,
To an edacious political sabotage.

And our tumultuous life is viewed not well,
With lack of fiscal sedation,
Though a dreamers life does not ease bring,
It does reap pure appreciation.