The town crier rings his bell saying in a loud, but monotone voice
"All is not well!........All is not well!"
Cold eyes stare at him, afraid of his words
But eat them, fueling their hunger
The poor philosopher fumbles with his pencil and writes,
"America, home of the rich; filled with the poor
The founding smugglers thought with greed
What Thomas Paine told us to be our common sense
Their veins coursing with rum, they defeated tyranny
Allowing a business class to rage beyond the bounds of common men
But taxes came back to bite them
A freedom they thought they all earned
Then a class of Robber Barons took over
Claiming Natural Selection, Survival of the Fittest, and Darwinism as their reasons for coming to power
Creating their thrones of gilded souls put into the meat grinder
Churning them as they turned into dollars
Their eyes drooling with fascination
Using their souls as picture frames to show their achievements to the world
Their loyal subject stares out into the waters of the Atlantic
Holding her torch, guiding the poor to her shores
"Come to the land of milk and honey", she screams
Mesmerized by her bronze color, thinking of the land of opportunity
Only to arrive to be butchered quickly for a wage
But now the sickness of greed covers her from head to toe
We can all see what she really is
A symbol built up on false truths
She was built because the money was corrupt
Sitting in wooden boxes in a warehouse covered in dust
Her freedom is our irony
Living with us as she still puts her torch to the world
But no light shines to lead us in this dark hour
Lingering in the background, while others parade their glory in front of us
Too long We The People have been mislabeled from a white male land owner to a white male, so on and so forth
Is this our country?
Or the country of hidden Robber Barons that hide all over the world?
If the 1 percent truly run things then we are not free
A hidden tyranny beguiles what rights we think we have
The bigger question is how long can we wait to be truly free?