Supporting Caste

When the credits finally

Roll for this, the

Worst story ever

Told, don't bother...

Sifting through the names

For yours or anyone you know,

Unless they

Were by chance a shepherd king...

A virgin birth, a resurrection,

A messianic prince or some

Such childish thing.

You can storm the edit suite,

Or move to block its theatrical release,

But I think we can safely guarantee...

There will be no revisions to the script,

Made on behalf of a supporting cast(e).

'Cause history exalts

Only the pornography of force,

That of murderers and psychopaths.

The rest of us, of course...

Stricken from the narrative wholesale,

A backdrop to their tale.

As we, the two-bits,

Are ushered on and swiftly off this stage with...

The jawbones of asses,

No stirring curtain call for the masses.

No floral bouquet.

No breaking of legs.

No recurring role.

No artistic control.

And so in these days,

In this terminal phase,

It's all left to chance.

A piece of advice...

If you're cast on thin ice,

You may as well dance.

Do what you feel you must,

But as for me I was not

Put upon this earth

To subjugate or serve.