A conservative man points his finger in my direction and shouts fool.
I stand at the bottom of a hill looking up at him and I am small.
His pockets are coloured in green and his teeth shine like gold.
I am nothing in comparison; I do not have a hundred diamonds to sell.
He says all is well for those who prosper; he preaches the word of the market.
Flicking my cigarette, I stare absent mindlessly; his words do not penetrate my understanding.
Sinking knee deep in mud, I struggle to make it to the top of this hill.
I purchase an education, money spent on recognition.
I work for the other man who pays me barely enough.
The people are vacant and the cities are crowded.
The trees disappear and the water turns sour.
Sky's stay forever gray and every old lady is praying for this world to be ok.
What ever happened to homemade bread? Why can’t I taste the dew amongst the summer breeze?
The soil is being turned into a landmine of riches for the ones on top to harvest into
Gold. But, little do they know that the flowers can’t grow from a mound of concrete.
I laugh at the man in the black suit who turned equality, economy, and prosperity into a corrupt system of the poor staying poor and the rich growing richer.
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