Smolder

We are tired
Your huddled masses
Worn and bruised
Disillusioned, confused
Disparate from you
The grease to your wheels
The gears of your machine
Lean, but not broken
Hungry, but not starved
These setbacks will not
Tear us asunder
Like tin men you fell
Sanguine waters, the well
Still you dance, oblivious
Lascivious, your greed
Your corruption, a seed
Deep in the dogmatic soil
Pampered feet refuse to touch
These embers, remember
Have yet to cool