Manufactured Scarcity
I recognize everything
is more than enough.
Bow your head,
prey.
I reckon I
seized the day -
ain’t no calling a bluff.
Bide your threat.
Pray.
Irate kin survived,
smiling with their sore thumbs.
You got proof you can make it with less.
Be careful of what you say.
Oh God
what an excuse
to take away.
We have a world of abundance:
in chance,
in effort,
in hope.
In resources
that, with letters,
have separated roles
to plunder,
to steal,
to hoard.
To think this
is a way of control.
The world needs
to let go.
What’s there to give
aside from
what can be gained?
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