Capitalism
We are brain-washed,
Like a fire hose set on high.
Losing track of reality,
All we do is buy.
Consumerism is key,
In a high-class capitalistic market.
Where money means fun,
Except for the people who don't have it.
If you are homeless,
Get a job.
As simple as that.
It doesn't matter if your parents died,
You're mentally ill,
Or you picked the wrong straw from the hat.
The thing is,
We don't care.
We would also rather not think,
Of the horrors we've instated,
Causing to own nothing,
That's your own fault,
I think.
When you have the power,
You tend to forget.
What it is like to get your feet wet.
So please reconsider,
Think a little harder next time.
When I get my check,
I'll hope to see more than a dime.
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.