What reality reflects your life,
a future shared with a loving wife?
Or crack babies born with addiction,
a result of love's contradiction.
Is it cottages, homes and riches,
or parks, alleys, gutters and ditches?
Politicians trading lies for votes,
squandering taxes on trips and boats.
The rich preach about helping the poor,
yet hoard the keys that lock every door.
A con man mutes voices in his head,
heeding the crowd that's pushed to be lead.
How do you survive a world of greed,
where the starving die and wealthy feed?
A destitute voice carries no weight,
fraught with shame hope's the first to vacate.
When people die from a human bomb,
doesn't that say that something's gone wrong?
We unashamedly profess hate,
always willing to exterminate.