poems and stuff

Productivity is all the rave
for king and country we must slave
see the riches acrue atop
profits rise without a stop

merely cogs in the machine of war
against the helpless, weak and poor
this capitalist monstrosity leaves nothing untouched
it knows no such thing to be ‘too much’

pillage plunder all you can
that’s the system we’re born in, man
because our worth is measured only in product
intangibles like love and care count for nought

just constantly doing what you’re told
no thinking allowed until your old
only on your death bed can you reflect
on your misdeeds and ill-intended effects

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