To Rebel or Not to Rebel

I'll be reciting the poem below tonight ...


Those Evil Few

With wealth, the likes of Helen's Troy,
There are these few that think they're coy
They seem so modest- but I warn,
Their modesty is but a ploy

They hung two 'thieves' the other morn-
In fact, the day my son was born.
Their crime: some stolen fruit, some grain ...
Two homeless, hungry men forlorn.

I felt indignant, bitter pain,
As I stood watching through the rain:
"If I were starving, like these two,
Would I steal food ... and thus be slain?

Who knows how many men they slew-
But here is this, and this is true:
That if they touched my starving son
I'd grab a sword and run them through!

For by their greed their wealth was won ...
My wherewithal? - it's next to none.
Those evil few, so fatly fed,
Impoverished me ... and everyone!"

And still the hungry hang there dead,
Condemned by laws those few have said.
And now my hunger has me torn:
Obey their laws ... or steal their bread?

-jwm



Poetic Parameters:

Stanza: seven quatrains
Meter: tetrameter (e.g. four metric feet, or eight syllables per line)
Rhyme Scheme: aaba bbcb ccdc dded eefe ffgf gghg

Note:

The poem’s overall structure was inspired by a Robert Frost poem I read sometime ago, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (a poem whose style was in turn modeled on an even older form known as a Rubaiyat stanza).