Back to the Time of “Let Them Eat Cake!”

Photo by Ryan Morrill and provided courtesy of The SandPaper 

Back to the time of kings,

Where the lower classes were told,
“Let them eat cake!”

But our cakes have become,
Strangely composed Twinkies and Little Debs.

And between our plowing the fields (and selling imported goods)

And asking,  “Who will buy my sweet red roses?”

We have found our humble abodes becoming humbler, smaller, shrinking,

Our pennies buying less.

And the gilded age returns,

But so busy by blaming the peasants for their poverty…
No one noticed.

What does this poem mean to you?  Please comment below.

About Amy Marschak

I have been writing since I was little and found myself bored but yet still trapped in a classroom. So instead of staring out the windows at school, I would write poetry in the margins of all of my school notes. And in this way I could pass the time without having to listen to the teacher when they were being boring or depressing. A few of these poems are in my first book “Poetry for All Those Breathing” which is now in its Seventh Printing. Poetry has always been a way for me to be heard by my family. If I would simply state how I felt, I would frequently be ignored but if I wrote it as a poem, what I had to say would be listened to. Sometimes my parents would even cry when they heard my poetry.