Bribe
Take the bribe
Don’t fret your pretty mind
What the money’s for
Convince yourself you’re not responsible
Once you’ve stepped outside that door
Make yourself a slave
Tell the wealthy they’re exempt
From all the rules
Long as you get paid
Let them run the Earth
Craft their favorite flavor of dystopia
Let the dollar bill decide what
A person’s life is worth
Then enjoy your hell
And when the fruit blooms
Of corruption
You blame yourself
This poem is about:
Our world