Scented lives that drift along:
from birth a sugared, rosy path;
pandered to and money spent,
with no thought of an aftermath.

Children brought up like this can see
nothing of the agony
of hapless souls who cannot boast
of riches beyond their parent's scope.

Selfishly they pick the plums
dangling form life's fruitful trees.
They merely leave the emptied skins
to their peers who despise the loss.

They will not be asked to share
the richer pickings offered once:
the spoiled ones quickly seize the chance
and simply scoff the lot.

Small wonder then
the poor ones will revolt
against the greedy ones
and demand with violent threat,
their rightful share of fruit they need to get.