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Rated: 13+ · Other · Community · #1150068
A poem about capitalism.


Imagine (once more)
rotten to the core
duplicated,
mass produced,
and sold.
The owners
painted smiles
cover it all
up
down
to the bank
smiling
through guilt
built
on capitalism
parellel only
to sodomy.
Meanwhile
Mrs. Jones
ignorantly
bakes
apple pies
and
youthful minds.
© Copyright 2006 Phillius (peewinkle at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1150068-Americas-Game