It Would Be Wrong

Standing upon a strange world on a disesteemed mountainous mound all alone... self-deified. A pedestal ego perceived created. As misshapen edifice to own... self-conceit. Piling plans dreams spinning lies webs formulating sticky schemes. Watch fragmentation disintegration of virtue, honour, integrity, courtesy, moral decency. All chivalry... which constitutes formulates approaching mid-twentieth century humane civilization. It would be wrong to kiss such boots, they might put on ears think themselves above common muck, purpose they serve when user wears. So abstaining or being reluctant in their appointed show case task in life. To make money to get rich it is so easy-given indiscreet snitch there is just one tiny hitch with solicited immoral gain divine justice cannot agree it is against power fortitude of righteous indomitable will. Even if it is not tainted, Nazi-Jewish gold, dripping overflowing in a raped bloodied till. An eternity of suppressive poverty hopeless humanity endures it still. Sated behind every great legendary; fortune fabulous; is crime. At minuscule very injurious least a crime against humanity. Rich conglomerates will not share guarded selfishly power. People manipulating these companies withhold purse; play pulling purse strings. In third world countries through skeletal rib cages desolate winds and sands builds and sings and stings. Industrialized countries some denizens live under bridges live like trolls. So risen names be added to companies ego honour rolls. Mother earth is not alone angels count the toll. Doomsday clock shall chime ending of present null. Now approaches dawn of tolerance justified neo-liberalism. In gathering dusk reform of later twentieth century. Economic exploitation capitalizes upon minimum paid workers. As executive policy stealing creamed fruits of sweat shop labour free-market. Copyright © Terence George Craddock