Gods of the earth
Demoralizing, dehabilitating, ugh! Humilating.
I'm riding these rails.
A prisoner of the federal government.
Not in jail.
Locked in this poor financial cell.
It's a living hell.
They take the icing off the top.
As they say,
"don't worry we'll give it back,"
or "maybe not"...
They don't live by the system.
They work for it.
They collect their checks,
to decide if you can have,
what you have left.
They have absolutely nothing to do with the lord,
but it seems like they play God.
In the system we created,
money is secondary,
to the almighty.
Without either one
your life might as well be done.
Give your money, to pay them.
So they can decide, if you can have what's yours.
What a system.
Your federal tax dollars at work.
The U.S. government "gods" of the earth.
Born into this unjust curse.
Someone controlling your present fate
leaves such a morbid taste.
Don't let the system get inside your head.
Don't let the system get inside your fellow man.
They may own my body,
but they can't stop my mind.
All I've got is time.
The last man you want to challenge,
a man with a mission in mind.
Copyright © matt T. love | Year Posted 2010
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment