Notes From A Ragged Band Of Underground Revolutionaries: (Future Shock) Poem by DM W

Surveillance centres of a dying planet:
Where bloodless bureaucrats are crushing dissent.
Fastidious, pure white 'angels' are busy
Polishing the chrome of the new machinery.
The latest brands have now got the go-ahead.
While millions remain oppressed and underfed.
Bright, virtual worlds distract the duped masses.
People worship vain idols and all that's crass.
The prophets and poets rot in prison cells.
Some call this purgatory. We call it hell!