What makes me tick?

Violence and poverty, the thought makes me sick. 

Poor people are starving, in a land of excess.

The rich get richer, and only buy the best.

The best food, the best cars, the best limousine.

As the poor man struggles for wages obscene.

And the single mother, whose husband drinks booze

Is denied welfare, while deadbeats schmooze

Off the sweat of Americans who work to survive,

Off their successes the laziness thrives.

A generation of don'ters in a critical time,

Will cause the downfall of humans, one silver spoon at a time.

With issues upcoming, with great severity,

Will be faced by a generation, who can barely count to three.

But is there hope for these people unseen,

Or will they just falter, like a broken machine.

A generation of don'ters in a time that needs doing,

We need a new approach, and people need renewing