Free Market

280

 

it’s not the statues
we can build some others
it’s not even the piles of rubble not the blood spilled
it’s not the cries
or the traps
or the gutters

Aya

that’s not what’s sad what’s sad is the emptiness the neglect
the fading of hope
the muffling of roars
the dimming of dreams the loss of a cause

it’s really not the death toll those are statistics
it’s the death of soul
the vanishing of passion

it is the victory of logistics

 

what have we become
we are so used to violence that we choose silence because we are numb

we live in a world where even if we
tried to unify our voices all of us
the damned
the robbed
and the bitter
millions of us
uniting as a force
we still wouldn’t beat the one percent
that owns our destiny

it’s the ugly truth
billions of us
helpless and
under the mercy
of who owns the most stacks of papers of nothing

that we made into everything

 

it is the heart of the problem
and the root of all evil
we have just become too distracted by our misery
to see that we gave all power
to moloch
in the name of liberty

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