Ode To Capitalism

By

That check they give you every month – that number it tells you you’re not good enough.
It screams your name and taunts your dreams,
because someone out there is “achieving greatness.”
Big cars, big houses in all the exotic places.
And here we are waiting for our checks every week,
wishing and hoping our life would be sweet.
Spending it all on shit we don’t need,
melting when the account says empty.
When it’s not satisfying, and it never will be; we drink, we cry
without misery, we tell ourselves were not enough
And awe at the lives that don’t look so tough.
Never realizing that reality holds no success,
No measurement of worth naturally exists
saying, “you will be poor and he will be rich.”
That’s why I beg of you to
Look deep within for the silence that heals
You will then see in life who is true and what is real –
the greed, the anger, and envy will be no more.
Then look at those big houses and tell me, who’s really poor?