State Of The Union Poem by P.R. Prosper

If only you could see what I’ve seen with your eyes
A world obsessed with indifference
While bent on its very demise
The original aims of the once community
Brought hopes of mutual aid and protection
Have been drowned out by quarterly projections
And diplomatic immunity

Hypocrisy runs rampant through most of the trusted
Leaving no truth to expose from a lie so well dusted
How do you suppose
This cycle of no action and no repose
Can continue without law being deposed,
Without chaos taking hold?

A world with no responsible leaders
It’s not the house’s fault if you always blame the dealer
Scolded proletarians
Molded to sectarians
Carrying vendettas of a time long deceased
Instead of questioning
Why the index is up but their wages decreased
And they’ve nowhere now for nestling

The price of simple comforts climbs ever higher
Making the hold on simple lives ever tighter
The strong only survive when they remain number one
Be it through diamonds and guns
Or a void promise of funds
Everyone is kept under the right thumb

If we’re no longer people, then what are we possibly?
Figures on charts and mathematical anomalies
Driven to value things thrown at us symbolically
Blind to the fact we’re all connected symbiotically
Could the human race be already run?
Or can it really last to the last setting sun?