what are we ,but small

what are we ,but small fragments of a working machine

turning and twisting into making profits

hurting our spines and our spleens 

for what 

a bit of peace ,a calm after the storm we call our lives 

the thought ,the illusion that we are free

is nothing but a child's dream 

we use and abuse our wives, hurt and put down our children

crush their motivation and aspiration

so that they can tune into to the next televison sensation 

and tune out their minds

slowly conforming to be apart of the capitalist machine 

that values profit over morals 

we will never be content 

we will never be free