Pondlife

Do we appear as pondlife to them?
Those alleged councillors of repute,
From their gilded office above us,
With their manifestos made of bread,
Are we just guppies and tadpoles?
Schools of fish with empty heads,
Covered in muck from the streets,
Our murky waters,
Polluted and trash-ridden as they are,

They drop breadcrumbs down to us,
Placations and silvered words,
And giggle as we bite and nip each other,
Tearing scales from one another,
Amused as we keep hunting our fellows,
Not looking above the surface,
They smirk at the chum they bestowed us,
The bubbles trying in vain to show us the way,
To where our real predators reside.