A grain of sand glittered afore the eyes
Of a curious creature holding solely ambitions
Ideas of grandeur, of possession, a stick a stone
A piece of gold for knaves to enchant fools.
Delineating lines on lands we built our nations
To keep what we had and the neighbours outside,
Made a distinction between the people
Built castles to protect our belongings leaving others
In the gutters, flush to drown them.
Seeking knowledge to own we invented power
Dressed the people in diverse colours
Uniforms depriving human race of equality
Those who grow fruits are not as worthy
As those who harvest money, coins and papers
For the plebs, whilst they play with intangible realities,
Endless gold rush everyone wants some,
Believing with it we’d be happier and stronger
Perhaps even live longer, yet we ignored
Money was murdering our gods. Values sold
To highest bidders principles reduced to a joke,
“Live and let die” our commandment new and sole,
Gambling consciousness on hustling sharks
In street markets fearing Fridays, banks on the watch
Lend to those who do not have to have a debt
Infamy pouring interests in the pockets of masters
Selling illusions to those they’ve deprived of hope.
Lucre a sly incarcerator of minds and spirits
Promising freedom only if we engage in wars
Renouncing morals to legally rob the neighbours
Kept outside to deny, to turn blind eyes, not to breathe
The toxic effects of a system, murdering our gods.
[Featured illustration: Preview of Coming Distractions by Atlas Park]