The garbage is picked up,
There may be more empties for scavengers,
But still, no half-full cup,
Memories are slowly being replaced,
With time in quarantine,
For those lucky enough to have a home,
But for many, things are much like they've been,
While others thrive like they've never before,
And before, thrive they did,
It's like the tap of magnification,
Has been ripped right open,
If you were poor,
Boy, aren't you poor, now?
That's the way capitalism survives,
When ninety-nine percent can't figure how.
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