A Bill (Ex R A T B) Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

Notes disclosing said annotation of, conveys it's pre-preparation for their aimed role; empowered by voters in our nation, gambling on odds being perfectly fit: actions then approved by Congress, creating a legal law.

Designers formed this special fact, revealing a rare, unique paper; sent bust aimed at the common people with its tax cuts, reflecting on it our precious beliefs too, in this God we must trust: sign the bill, calling it a dollar.

Buyers make purchases, pay, use dollars in sips, get joy or opposition, serve hurt or relief its downing pits, or uplifting tips: inform us soldiers so alive about how they are, speak words out, still lips, through a bill.

Folks that are picked to do service are elected to seats; among those chosen are wolves yielding plots that betray our trust, feats whose actions do a system harm: doing defeats, setting limits on families.

Law, served through workers' jobs, which set restrictions; signed off in black ink its handwritten principles, accepted, care for our bodies that stink: wink seen of a held majority, confirming a yes, activating a bill.

Thieves obtain riches by cleverly taxing innocent ordinary citizens, trading notes, stolen totes, money promoted through votes, granting more bills with hopes of multiplying funds into personal bank accounts.

Each bill trap, like a spider's woven string, retrieving plenty of money from everyone's pockets; by legal actions swing, signing foul papers; bringing loot to scum, no chancery risk, a free ride, total comfort.

Factual truths, be as you will, select this wanted pick; intent, that thrill, supposed to aid lives wonders, that act of by any legislation, by law: due promptly, serve to you, each month, a bill.