Never Lacks a Heart - Poor Folks Sure

A time to settle situational matters with a solid method and means - a poem.

A newest furthered sense of living -
More of saintly gov’s sweet giving…
Pay the piper for this sage;
Next will be the golden age…

Loving hearts, for sure, relax -
When it comes, most pay a tax;
Facts are clean, such domination,
Views ensure abomination.

Poor folks lack a certainty.
Seek those winners, new and dainty.
Were it not for ugly specters -
Seems like people’s smoke detectors.

Concomitant to the tasks -
Wanton cauldron, faulty asks.
Laid to triumph, bare extreme.
Everything’s a measured dream! 

Whether called on to extract,
Novel unions are a fact! 
Make ends meet, a new position
Finds the beat of zoned attrition.