Chauffeur Driven

You see what they want you to see,
the ones who think they control you and me.
The puppeteers,
the men with strings,
those who wear the pinkie rings.
The knights of the round table.
Those who keep our world stable.
The men in suits and polished boots,
counting cash to distribute.
Chauffeur driven,
shielded from the rain,
never felt a pine of pain.
The aristocrats,
the top cats,
the gentlemen who wear top hats.
With gout and shiny red noes,
Wives showing off their well manicured toes,
that’s where all the money goes.

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