A Bill Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

A voice annotation said, conveys pre-preparation for a set role; empowered by voters in our nation, gambling, being perfect: approved acts then by Congress, creating a legal law.


Designers created a special fact, revealing a rare, unique paper, with a tax bust aimed at ordinary people, reflecting on it our precious beliefs: in this God we must trust, sign the bill, calling it a dollar.


Buyers make purchases, pay, use dollars in sips, serve their opposing dips or an uplifting increase; inform us soldiers so alive, about how they behave: speak words out, still lips, through a bill.


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


Law, served through jobs, which set restrictions; in black ink accepted its handwritten principles, care for our bodies that stink: seeing a wink by a holding majority, confirming a yes, activating a bill.


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


Each bill traps, like a woven spider's string, from our pockets plenty of money swing; by legal acts, signing foul papers; bring loot to scum, allows 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.