The homeless ask for change
Not only the spare pence pieces you have in your pocket,
But the change that can make them sheltered and warm.

The buskers ask for change
Not only compensation for their musical vibes
But the kind of coinage for a different kind of awareness
Atmospheric positive energy
And peace

The travelers ask for change
Aid their way through the world to gain a bit more perspective
So they may prove others wrong when making horrendous generalisations
Or to see everything with better lenses

The activists ask for change
Breaking through social etiquette
Politeness is overruled by injustice
They take the streets their own suggestions
Vocal with rage…

The man in the suit doesn’t want your change
He wants your notes
Hard earned money from your wallet to feed his own
Grown grotesquely fat with gluttony
He wants your sense of self worth blinded with what he envisions
Making incisions into your mind
Of how you should act
And why you should cry.
Forget what’s inside.
Become a player on the stage of the world and fail to remember that you’re just another teenage girl too impressionable to hide
Rather then see you thrive he wants profit
Leaving you high and dry
Thirsty for nothing you can actually buy.

I ask for change.
I ask for the power to transform within me
To give the change all these people are asking of me.
Maybe I’ve not got the money,
But I can empty myself with all I have
And see if it makes a difference…

Kiss the man in the suit goodbye.