July 2, 2014

<i>July 2, 2014</i><br><br><br>


by Tim Gardiner

Cunning capitalists in charge
a fox feasts among the hens,
war graves used for political gain
elected hypocrites have no shame.
An earthquake of negative thoughts
tremors in parliament corridors,
laud the greenest government ever
concrete fields run to an empty river.
The storm surge of poverty hits
a tidal wave of our making,
for the profit margin is king
in the new age of greed,
young and old dying
to fuel a corporate creed.
The derelict winter garden
is our glasshouse of isolation,
in the changing climate of fear
a recession of hope starts here.
It seems we've learned nothing
after a century of destruction,
a past we're destined to repeat,
the future dies choking
on rhetorical deceit.

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