We sometimes color money as precious metal,
Although the names we use are fraudulent-
Two silver coins to buy a newspaper,
Gold coils that cannot buy a loaf of bread.
I am still sure that blood is deeply red,
That a woman's gasp is of all the shades,
That food will be worth more than all paper;
But I have no flocks to tend, no earth to sow,
And still? A life of slavery to these portraits.
Was it better to call them Emperor,
Did holiness take away degradation?
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