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

Notes of said annotation disclosed, conveys pre-preparation for its final role; empowered by voters in our nation, gambling on odds, being perfectly fit: acts then approved by Congress, creating a legal law.

Designers formed a special fact, revealing a rare, unique paper, aimed just at ordinary people with horrific tax cuts, reflected 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 its hurt downing pits or an uplifting relief; inform us soldiers so alive, about how they behave: 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; accepted in black ink, its handwritten principles, care for our bodies that stink: wink seen by a holding majority, confirming a yes, activating a bill.

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

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

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