The power of money exists to define us,
to strip away values from deep down inside us.
To control the way of life we breathe,
to decide a child's company.

For the youth there is no fight at all.
The kryptonite that kills the tall,
strikes down upon the mind once free,
becomes the focus of every need.

Enforced by past, the greed succeeds,
in claiming victims, of changing dreams.
No longer can the smile last,
to fuel what in the money lacks.

A limitation of self-expression,
appearance altered without discretion.
The salary determines one's nutrition,
a parallel income without commission.

The drive gets one from place to place.
The home is where the struggle's faced.
The bills seem stacked from floor to sky;
the stress a mountain, the stream its cries.

The mist alas contorts the view.
Rebels the happy, envies the few.
As hope is hard to find today,
in a world where money saves the day.



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