corporate greed

Searching for potable gold
to fulfill the immortal soul.
Little did they know
that this metal would create
a destruction so large
centuries would wait
in perilous purgatory
of a crumbling state.

As progression set its motion,
a fairytale land of trade
and prosperity, life’s true ambition
buried beneath the mud they sift.
Hunting for stars in the gound,
when all that man needed
was to lift his head.

Greed was the creed,
but paper doesn’t feed
the children with barren palms.
Nor does the precious metal
around a man’s wrist
support a dying man’s wish
that his family be saved
from the debt’s he couldn’t pay.
The debt some banker
devised as a way to control,
to conquer those blind followers
of the capitalist rules of fabricated demand
from a limited supply.

If man had just looked up
at the most golden thing
then he’d realize insignificance,
become humble, and would cease
glaring down at the world
as if he were the one above it.

Gold won’t matter
when Earth is destroyed.
Neither will man’s history.
So save the important
memories of now.