Economics
Alexander S. Peak


In a masterpiece of broken glass,
My tobacco and milk doth join.
O, wretched milk!  Thou art the hint of death.
And I, I am the butcher.
I am unseen in the state of light.
Little pirates scurry about,
As the school attempts to preach that all’s well.
But I, I am not a fool.
The clouds of doom hath fall’n upon her.
The rapists are calling the shots.
But it’s not the end of her golden glow,
For I, I have my own sword.


Authored 2008 by Alexander S. Peak