3% Cash Back On All Souls Poem by Alfred Barna

We have bartered our tomorrows
To make it seem we might live as kings
Recompense reaping only sorrows
When a bird of prey roosts upon our wings
The fiddler has played for the party
Lulling each with their favored version of tunes
The bill of charge is not for the fool hearty
Which the band is to deliver none too soon

The band was a constructed symphony
Sycophants to lure the unwary to their clutch
Surely this shall be the day of their infamy
As the entire affair did not cost them so much
The irony their make believe debt created
You bailed them out even in their schemes
Once the balloon of Wall Street is deflated
They will become Masters of our dreams
Our nightmares of enslavement have rested
Upon their cold eyes and hearts to content
For the swindle will insure they are invested
In the destruction which was their intent

As cheap labor was busily slaving
To produce the goods you desired most
The grand masters were busily saving
So that they could also purchase their host
Now you will be asked to bear the burden
Because you were hoodwinked royally
You will be asked to sign on to their word then
Expected to join their club if dance loyally

They have planned the caper for generations
They are nothing if not patient thieves
For their dream was to enslave all the nations
Their clan to be bringing the sheaves
They will tell you that you will be enlightened
And the world is the oyster of all
Hearken, when they say peace and safety; be frightened
It is then you must not heed their call
For when the kings offer the peasants honey
You know the wasps are preparing to sting
For remember when they trapped you with money
Now they wish to be absolute in everything