We chew bogus theories
Hoping to make history,
We build pile of lies
Deceiving the less fortunate.
Taking advantage of the passionate to work as slaves.
We clench our fists hoping
To build future but digging
Our graves, we're employed
By unemployment, the
Wicked and crooked are
Our masters, the affluent
Parasite live at the peak of paradise while the proletarian are at the bottom suffering.
Proletarian toil making
A difference while
Humanitarian thieves claim
All the glory disguising
As good samaritan.
We kiss at their feet yet
Is us who bow down under
The scorching sun.
We're puppets made to
Dance to their broken tune
Miserable and mismatched
We're patched into their
Perfect illusion of American
Dreams, we scream thunderclap of hunger
and they stream our belly
With bon appetit( a taste
Of their lifestyles, thrilling
Our taste buds), without
Haste we agree to suck
Our intestine's sweat
For them to fill their
Potbelly pockets, so
They could offer us peanuts.

By:Melvey koka(the surgical poet) 29 Nov 2020
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Sonador (the dreamer)
© Melvey koka