Ten Years

Ten years
If all should go
Go well with no
Particular mishaps
Unfound catachlysmic
Destiny unfolded
Prematurely.
All know it
So what then?
Would one dolt
It through stoic
Stay the course
Monotonous until
Planted in a stamped
Parcel taxes payed
Now done onto the
Next one who pays
Every day to people
Who have no say so
Over the meager earnings
And then some with
None even they pay
For the fatass pencil
Pushing non producing
Egg sucking brown nosing
Blood sucking
Government employee
That lives off the sweat
Of every other brow
On the planet from
Birth to death
Sunup to sunset.
Ten years left
How best spent is
The question friend.