Change in the Wind

I'm a metaphoric Lorax, and I spoke for the trees

Of the mind, not the real ones that swayed in the breeze

In the forest I lived in, ideas are the seeds.

Each one forms its own hybrid, and aren't always agreed

The power of people came out through the brain

And fed these ideas like a summer's eve rain

But on came Ficiencies, whom always need more

In less time, with less mind, to reach higher score

"Just a little bit harder, give us all that you've got!"

Til the brain is all tuckered and left out to rot

And settled in the Vertisers, to stuff down the throat

Enough stuff to throw up a brand new winter coat

Flash! Boom! Pow! Bang! Keeps the head in careening

And ideas that would grow now are wilted and preening

But the thing that has dealt my poor forest it's straw,

Are the Mises, the pros of all-flatterable jaw

They have offered us much, but we receive from them nothing

They're just mammoths and donkeys, all ripe for the stuffing

If the world were to want change, then here's my reply

I would ask them to look at the world for it's size

Then realize that problems, most times, are quite small

And the answers to them can be discovered by all.