Genius is meant to grow
Instead dead ideas
Are spread like plagues
Wandering rats raid
The minds of the working class
Plundering their pocket books
Stealing time while filling their minds
With bile
Pockets of putrid **** swell
Filled with hate and fear
Tainting the clear ideas
Steering the flow away from
The expression of
Grand thoughts of science and art
And towards competition
Bitterness and regret
For a world of material goals
We have not achieved yet