Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2017
Dollars and cents,
that make no sense,
the market bubble expands,
but is not based on supply and demand.

Retirements savings and hedge funds,
like the triggers of loaded guns,
when at last the bubble bursts,
that day will be black and the worst.

Worthless dollars in Mason jars,
dug up at night under the stars,
Wall Street dead, thrown in the hole,
greenbacks burned to trap their souls.

The rich stay rich, the rest are broke,
like turning wheels and bicycle spokes.
Eventually it comes around,
accompanied by gun shot sounds.

Broken futures and broken lives,
helped by governmental lies,
wealth is shared to nth degrees,
will be like ships on an empty sea.

So be smart and stock pile,
food, guns and bullets all the while,
have a place to go and hide,
zombie hoard is coming in stride.

Once the trucks stop rolling in,
they will commit acts of sin,
killing, stealing, **** and pillage,
in every city and every village.

So be prepared and trust a few,
get ready for perpetual stew,
what you can **** goes in the ***,
what you can grow will be what?

Compounds built and alliances formed,
there will be no choice in this storm,
and if we emerge on the other side,
we'll be self sufficient and full of pride.
The Fire Burns
Written by
The Fire Burns  M/Artesia, NM
(M/Artesia, NM)   
  222
     Temporal Fugue
Please log in to view and add comments on poems