Lain Down To Rest O' Brethren Foul

I know, this poem sounds weird, and it is, but it was one that I wrote yesterday during English class while we were watching a gay movie...

Lain down to rest, o' brethren foul,
With couth hands of greed.
And angry faces pasted in scowl,
And eyes begging their need.

With jealous hearts and malignant minds, And tasteless frowning souls,
These are the people we often find,
Polluting election polls.

Controlling hands and plentiful lies,
Sprout out of them like weeds,
But these are the kind of people, who tries,
To always hide their needs.

They need some love and some fun,
They need some sympathy.
The need someone that will shun
Their apparent apathy.