david lessard (september fourteenth, nineteen forty-one / gardner, massachusetts)
A Capital Idea
Money honey...that's what I want...
In this age of buying and selling,
Is there something, they're not telling?
What does it cost them to sell?
Much less than what we pay,
(so why should they tell?)
There would surely be a riot then,
If we knew just what they spend.
We'd all be up in arms and yelling,
What they are keeping secret and not telling.
The only trouble with profit is greed,
as it satisfies no normal need;
It's a road paved with bad intentions,
No more health plans, no more pensions.
We've nothing further more to gain,
We've known all along where troubles lain;
We're on a non-stop, hell-bound train,
We're in a whirlpool, going down that drain.
For what? Big bucks and corporation,
All for the profit of one small nation;
A nation of the powerful and few,
Someday they crash...just like me and you.
Comments about this poem (A Capital Idea by david lessard )
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