two sides of the same coin, two parts of the same struggle, a heavier burden to juggle,
Ive seen trouble in the eyes of the children on the news,
visions of the glazed and un-phased, shuffling in ruin
as foreign investors appraise the worth of the people theyre *******
the one moral man looking in the mirror asks what are we doing?

Coffee and cocoa-beans,
oil and toil,
diamonds on the queens ears ripped from the soil,
these are the things for which we ****,
and people wonder why they can never get their fill,
why they feel morally ill?
perhaps paying taxes dosen't wipe the dirt from your fingers,

halfway around the world construction workers hurry the child to drop his dead mothers hand,
so they can bulldoze her home because the land is high in demand
for agricultural redevelopment, swine being brought in for re-settlement
people for pigs, the market is your master,
the dollar is your god, and your life is a disaster

the reason your life is a facade, is you cant turn false idols through ego worship into god
from a fake wife with fake *******
to fake kids with fake mental problems,  A.D.D.  generation and corrupt therapists to absolve them
to fake pastors, with fake ideals
this is what happens when one man profits from what another man steals,
and corporations re-define how love feels

and the rich try and justify why the poor have no food
why their own poor have no food, but why its more important to allocate funds to the protection of crude,
this is the slavery to which you have been raised
the hypocrisy of democracy can go on for days,

America, land of the thieves, where ideology is cheaper than bark on the trees
America, the land of the lie, where the children of the poor happily die
and yet America, the land where ideals meet reality, where the hopeful optimism of the middle class rightfully challenges the decadent edifices of the status quo
and where evil in the hearts and the minds of all of us has a chance to be laid to rest through the spirit of altruism,
America the ultimate battleground for truth to triumph over lies,
but where you stand, in the end, is the ultimate surprise.

Ya’ll ****. (Myself included, I said everybody, didn’t I)?
Forbes, a magazine for rich wannabes, says:
85 people control half of the world’s wealth (yet, nobody obsesses)
In my rural hometown alone,
that’d be the equivalent of a disembodied ****** hole
calling all the shots from a platinum throne inside the town hall
“Keep plowing! Keep selling! PLLLLLPPPPPP!
Sop up my **** with all those Benjamins, and bring the Russian ballet in!”
In between **** and brain rotters, everyone else watches ******,
with his handsome silk hat on,
shake hands with the petty bourgeoisie in suits
Little lap dogs
licking up all the slimy brown Franklins

Perfect little ******* crowd
Laugh your lungs out
Swear humiliation
Sweat indifference

Salt your licks
Sever empathy
One death rattle
One night only

******* entertain me
Entertain me
Pillow talk massacre
Conscience guillotine

Everyone's lying
But nobody is listening,
Coins glimmer and shine;

The truth still glistens
At dawn over crop fields,
Sunlit canopies.

Nature prevails
To show us our failures,
Yet, mankind squabbles.

The death toll rises
And nothing ever changes;
We don't have the time.

Keep spinning the wheel,
The sunset brings shade.

I want to make the world a better place
but
Poverty is a disease on its own
the prerequisite to depression
U
S
A
only trying to stay
stay rich
and sway
sway money in front of those who are just out of its reach
and then they preach
“If we give handouts they wont know how to work and they will wait for us to do everything for them. it’s not our fault they ****** up their life, theirs.”
it’s their fault
nineteen year old mother
cares for 3 week old baby
“cut loose” for missing two nights on the street corner because she couldn’t handle selling her body when
when years from now
her daughter will call her mommy
and her **** will call her sloppy
and she
will look scrawny
and now as she puts 3 week old baby to sleep in her
cardboard box crib
and think to herself
“this is my fault, I couldn’t find any other work. So I had to sell her mother to nothing more than an object.”
well now that cardboard crib kid is
eighteen
and fresh out of school
fresh on the streets
fresh flesh enmeshed
tangled in the rich mans net
starting the cycle over again because
at eighteen
on her own
she cant afford college
at eighteen
on her own
even if she has the knowledge
at eighteen
living in the streets
at eighteen
pregnant
--------
Mommy wasn’t there when she took teenage boy in the ally for the first time
taught it was okay because they needed money
and she knew no better way
baby had nothing to say
baby just needed the pay
now there is no way
she now is her mother
and baby is now inside her
and poverty has tied her
and the government denied her
mother never to guide her
and as she lied down her her bed all she could think of is
maybe if I wasn’t so poor
the government might care about me
-------
future baby
cradled in the mind of loving mother
regretful for choice of father
hoping
“maybe this will all go away
maybe if I pray
I wont live another day”
Poverty a disease on its own
the prerequisite to depression
because
U
S
A
is the only country who has the
power
freedom and ability to change the poverty rates and chooses
to only offer jobs to those who own a house
instead of those who need them
ignored by those who could help
because they are the ones who need it
poverty is a disease
and you better believe it runs in the family
poverty begets poverty
believe me
I’m not suggesting communism
but when a man can have a ninety dollar glass of wine
but that eighteen year old can’t even afford to buy something to eat
Change is needed
people getting cheated
don’t tell me there is freedom
when I see how the poor are treated
not eating
they are human
and we pass by and ignore them like animals
tangible
pass by graves
candles
people killed by a government disease
leaving parents absent
children abandoned
and don’t tell me
there is nothing we can do
because seeing men live in 100 million dollar mansions
when someone out there
eighteen years old
is left with no more chances
chances are this wont change anything
but to stand by
and allow people to die
is ******
and poverty
is genocide
we can’t hide
the inequality
or when given the affordable health care policy
call it comedy
honestly
its time for an apology
and to stop the hypocrisy
because poverty is commonly
in large quantities
and logically
poverty shouldn’t be an unborn child’s prophecy
just because their a impoverished mothers progeny
doesn’t mean their life couldn’t be quality
so pardon me
while I speak audibly
when I say the government has no monopoly
on poverty

To disguise our sin of greed
We debate philosophies
And justify our economies

Our sins cannot be covered
By shouting explanations

Twice the fool is the runaway
Who hides his trail, as he hides his ache
All bottle and pills, temporary sleep
Insomniac daze and cheap dinner meals

Static lies on a stationary screen
Radio chatter can’t feed the famine in me
The world is aflame
With no one awake

Sunrise slumber
I fall unconscious to the restless on midnight pavement
Breaking bones or breaking bottles
Selling skin or dealing dust to lost souls
Hearts tucked and folded from the cold

Future oblique
I dare you, predict my dreams
Late riser / never bloomer

Packs a bag, a change of clothes
To deadbeat joints, and dead end posts
Been as many years gone as daily cigarettes smoked

Bloodshot symmetry eyes
I see in every passerby
Like the whole city gone up and left their troubles behind,
You and I

We’re cerebral projections
Locked into motor whirs, recursive disintegration
Status acknowledged, clean cut
Black and white since day one

Mould breaker, you’re told you’re out of line
Gutter graves or veins, stay your place or fall behind
The only constant is the throne
You sit upon or come to view as your body’s own
The red light stare, blue flicker flares
Blare on your skin, like prisms, colour wear
Better to fade to grey than know yourself
For what you truly are, just a shade of catch and tell

Dire straits
No deviation
Full advance
Or desolation
Empty eyes
Golden restraints
I don’t want wealth
I just want change