Still needs some revising, i'm not too happy with the flow. Any feedback is appreciated. Rags to Rags The gods have so willed me to this upper fourth, Above those left to wallow in dearth, We have been endowed with the loathsome curse To be amongst the pioneering first; To busy ourselves in so silent study And build this foundation most sturdy We will forever be the less If we do not strive for great progress; For this we are given utmost priority And left the rest in such blissful naivety. For it is due to that fateful roll of dice That they receive the smallest slice- Their father's father's hard work in ditches And my father' farther's so guided leadership Has given to us these riches And allowed us the largest sip. We mustn't worry ourselves with such petty things; As toiling in mine and farm begets us nothing, While there is shiny rock and paper await We must forever leave them to their fate To abide by our most divine of laws And remain the silent martyrs for the cause.