Rigged systems

Rigged systems

Wall Streets rigged

financial system

the pistons

and cogs

a well oiled machine filled with smog.

A joke, quantitive easing

pleasing the rich

tax breaks and evasion

philanthropy

for white Caucasians.

The system will never benefit

people on dole

losing their soul,

or the disabled

hide your ableism

and stable rules

for this worlds justice

is injustice

and we are fools.

Kitted out with system

that resists change

new world order

shift of power to billionaires

we just churn out blank stares.

Charity the modern guise

death of belief, no god, or surprise

so there is only being famous or rich

To aspire, the death of independence

Set fire to books teaching socialism

or different ways for society

its rigged,

and it’s too late to learn other ways to live.

As propaganda spouts over media

seedier than other lies spouted forth

we won’t be heard over fake news’s discourse,

the ones who shape our lives the 1%

will enslave the 99

and in the system will be written the rules

that enslave us fools

for the internet which was promised to set knowledge free

we lead to down fall of the majority

who data has been mined

and undermined

for all to see,

And we still won’t acknowledge a rigged system of humanity.

Ugly

I wish I was so handsome I’d appear in GQ

but if I took off my clothes I’d face ridicule

I wish I my eyes were blue skies

I wish I set women’s hearts on fire

All I have are words

poetry

may trickle from my tongue like a tap

but I am not a male version of a honey trap

I may in some ways be wise

but people may want to keep their eyes closed

but I suppose every truth is like that when exposed.

Schizophrenia

This dreaming is dark

But I won’t lose my spark

sanity is a perspective

I don’t stand for the collective

the curtains I sit behind are walls

the fractured voice of someone I love calls

and tells me she hates and berates me

in the darkness of my mind

her unkindness

blinds me.

Binds me to the certainty that life is unfair

will it ever be repaired?

The stigma attached to me lies

the fire in my heart won’t die

and maybe I enlightened or frightened

of this form

since I was a daydreamer, after I was born

the storm of intrusive thoughts

the delusions in which I am caught

and I will argue that the stories I tell myself are yours too

you just aren’t boogie man blue

You think we are different

I am just medicated and irreverent

to this constructed reality

which you think is concrete

but where angels fear to tread I won’t retreat..,