Freeloaders

They don't do anything. Nothing at all.
Except for making noise. They're good at that.
I fix them breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and all I get in
return is their noisy scolding when I feed them.

Some of them are communists; I know this from their red clothes.
A few wear a patriotic blue, and some wear the black flag of anarchy.
Most of them just wear dull browns and beiges, fleeing
when the more political ones begin to argue.

They all left after the storm; it was finally quiet for a while.
But, once they didn't need to be in the shelters anymore
they came back. But they didn't come back making
demands upon me.

They didn't come back until I had set up the buffet again.
And they brought more with them.
Ones with nerve enough to wear tuxedos and red hats.
Hadn't seen any of that crowd in quite awhile.

But, just think about them a bit. They don't work, but their Heavenly
Father feeds them. I'm neither Heavenly
nor Fatherly,
but still, I feed them every day.

Even though they scold and complain when I bring their food
I'd miss them. I'd miss getting to see their courtships and their children
new outfits as they grow, and I would miss their songs of praise to
Heaven when they think I'm not listening...