I'm Not Complaining

As summer looms closer,
Along with my last breath,
Like so many other middle-class men,
I am grappling with death,

When I should be telling myself instead,
'You are not middle class',
Maybe your parents clawed their way to it,
But the world has changed and it's missed your grasp,

You will find out in the coming summers,
And the climbing degrees,
Even those who are now legit ok,
No value in money,

Except for those,
With so much, it's like air,
They breathe it in, inside protective domes,
Then scoff at those who say the world's not fair.

Don't Be Scared

You don't have to be scared,
Though, you probably should,
It's hard to believe you can effect change,
Cozy in a falsehood,

That you'll be protected no matter what,
Ask any homeless folk,
If when they had their first thought as babies,
They imagined they'd grow up to be broke.

Instead they had something that we call hope,
A vague expectation,
That fortune's not controlled by anything,
But self-motivation.

That is a lie,
Fortune's a made up haze,
Dependant on the unfortunate ones,
Convinced the world's naturally this way.

The Circle Will Remain Unbroken

Should we really worry,
'Bout the U.S. next move,
As if they orchestrate global events,
With no onus to prove?

Sure, it still arms armies around the world,
For its own agenda,
Has the most billionaires than anyone-
Though a close second is pesky China,

But every bully's surrounded by those,
Who want to bring them down,
Who then, most likely, become bullies, too,
Then begins a new round,

Of what they'll do,
Until they're unsat, too,
Meanwhile the system that allows them both,
Continues, despite who's bullying you.

Not Far From Falling

I am not saying much,
That's not been said before,
By observers sitting in soft armchairs,
While earth sits in horror,

Commentating not from a lofty place,
For I'm not far removed,
From the migrant running from violence,
Because I have one, but don't own my roof,

The first domino that falls won't hit me,
In truth, it's ere fallen,
The safety net was not woven so tight,
That all needy fall in,

But come a storm,
That tests savings I'd need,
To protect me when the government can't,
I'll light this armchair for fuel, tout suite.

For Rich Or Poor

Your worth's tied to your wealth,
The first thing people see,
If you look poor or you look filthy rich,
You may as well as be,

It gives you freedom, it makes you happy,
If someone says it don't,
They're either very poor or filthy rich,
One can't be happy, the other one won't,

Money is how everything is valued,
From food to affection,
If you disagree, have a dinner date,
At the Olive Garden.

You can do it,
But only with someone,
That can appreciate your reasoning,
Who is the same economic station.

Rebooting

You have to sometimes return,
To what you know best,
As a form of self improvement,
To support your confidentlessness,

And to remind yourself of who you are,
And what you should be doing,
Except for needing to make enough,
To support your family,

Because it's not always true,
You can't always do what you love,
Because not everything is valued by others,
Enough to give you enough.

So it's alright,
Go away to reboot,
If you have enough put away,
Or vacation days coming to you.

The Capitalist Revolution

What's all this fuss about money?
What good did it do anyone?
The rich spend their days holding onto it,
And the rest want a revolution.

Sometimes, in moments of freedom,
I imagine imagining,
Living my life, in my present condition,
Not thinking about money,

Which is how some people do it,
Though, it catches up to you in the end,
Because banks, unenlightenedly,
Worry about dividends.

But, alright,
What should a modern revolution be?
Maybe the way to topple this system,
Is to just forget about money.

Born This Way

Every single day,

You can do so much,

After completing the routine that,

Allows you such,

Freedom and power,

Like those with so much money,

They could buy a car every day of their lives,

And never see,

An end to what they have.

The only difference is that,

Instead of taking time to buy a car,

You're trying to increase what you have,

To be alright,

In the eyes of others and yourself,

Though without the God-given privilege,

Of inconceivable wealth.

The New Socialism

Money has no more power,
Once you take it into you,
And it is no longer external,
But more akin to who,

You are, just as is your crabbiness,
Or penchant for caviar.
Once we're valued by the value we have,
Then we can go a bit farther,

And put that value right in a chip,
Right into our skin,
And redistribute value equally,
Among the population.

Of the world, alright?
Yes, I'm talking socialism,
But with new way to redistribute wealth,
With a new technological bent.

What's Wrong With Most People

What's the use in knowing,
The facts about everything,
If all you're going to do,
Is spew them at me?

Give me some kind of context,
To give a window into your soul,
To understand how you organize the world,
Because, so far, I just don't know,

Unless you really have no opinion,
Or no moral compass,
Other than one that points at money,
And its ever-changingness.

I mean, I think you're alright,
And I'll certainly see you again,
But I will never trust you have my back,
On any excursion.

It Doesn't Matter What Others Want

You have to follow your heart,
This is sad, but true,
Unless your world's general happiness,
Has nothing to do with you.

But, if you're living life for other people,
Fulfilling their every need,
With no compensation coming to you,
Except money,

You're slogging it out washing,
Up someone else's mess,
Made up of shit you'd never touch,
In its greatest pristineness,

Then, it's alright,
To say fuck it all,
Just make sure you have enough in the bank,
To be functional.

The New Socialism

There are never more problems,
Just different ones,
With each change that you effect,
But it's all about rotation,

So that each person involved,
In the world that you make,
Has his share of good times and bad,
For perspective's sake,

Until eventually perspective,
Says, "the problems're always there",
And it becomes about simply living,
Instead of getting one's fair share.

Not that it's alright,
That there are haves and have-nots,
But maybe everyone should get a turn,
To have whatever they want.

Revolution Revisited

What is state of the art?
It has something to do,
With the art of the state,
And how it manipulates you,

And how trends serve to serve the monetary system.
Stop and consider this:
Why is it money is the only thing,
Keeping the world doing what it,

Knows it should do, but for lack of funds,
For lack of this thing that doesn't really exist?
The only thing that ever threatens to topple it,
Is the threatening pumping of fists.

And it's alright,
I'm not suggesting anything of the kind.
I don't have the money to pay for a revolution.
Oh, wait, all I need is people and time...

For Other Reasons

If you can't believe it,
Just stop to consider that,
No thing you can consider in this world,
Is no more a believable fact,

And if you really stop and think about it,
Like that caveman played by Jack Black,
How weird is it that the sounds coming from your mouth,
Cause others to act?

And how weird is it that when no one knows,
Where we actually came from,
That something as banal as money (which is not real),
Demands such consideration?

Oh, it's alright,
I know money makes the world go round.
How silly would it be if we all just did things,
Because, utilitarianly, they are just sound?

Already Gone

You just have to keep on truckin'
Because if you don't,
Your debt will build up and society will shun you,
Oh, and you will lose your home,

And dare I say that your soul will be affected,
When you may not even believe in it,
Or, at least, that it continues to exist,
After money becomes your prime source of contentment,

And not as the source of your luxuries,
For that is denied to all, but a few,
But the source of the bare minimum,
Required to be considered among the few,

Who deserve to be alright,
For if you just don't have enough,
It's almost comical to call you a human.
Boy, isn't this existence rough?

Lying Story

He ended up destroyed,
Because he lost himself in the ploy,
After he found himself defending a lie,
About a high-powered, remote toy.

The sun was out and the heat was on,
As he met, by chance, is very best friend,
From whom he'd borrowed money to buy a gift,
That he never bought in the end,

Instead, he paid some bills and got drunk,
And now he has nothing for that same friend's son,
As he tells his friend that he was robbed,
At the same time the two of them were on a run.

But it's alright,
He has another friend or two,
That will stay his friends until that time,
When his best friend tells them what he can do.

What There Is

There's no time to wonder,
About the things that matter,
Like what's it all for and what's the point,
Of doing anything but gather,

Money, power and, I guess, what else?
Isn't that what it's all about?
Really, is there anything that can get you,
Out?

There is retraction into oneself,
Through connection with an inner being,
Which gives you power over not being hurt,
By anything.

And it's alright,
If that's enough for you.
It's not your fault what society's made,
Of a formerly perfect world.

True Wealth

Just go with the flow, you say,
To the thousand millions left to fend,
For themselves while those with most the wealth,
Can't even spare to lend.

When all that money doesn't mean a thing,
Until it is spent,
Except for the potential energy,
And destruction it represents,

And the departure from reality,
For when a dollar no longer has,
Value in the mind of she who holds it,
Those hands that hold it will be the last.

So, it's alright,
If all you have is the love you hold,
Unless you want to buy some food with it,
You have riches untold.

The Measure of Success

There is really nothing,
That you cannot do,
If the world is at your command,
And you're a good delegator, too,

And you can distinguish one act from another,
Because sometimes it's not that easy,
When trends are such that anything different's a sham,
Especially in fat cat cities.

But know thyself, and be confident in,
The lack of confidence in everyone else.
Ultimately, the truth of your actions,
Is decided by accumulated wealth,

Which is alright,
There needs to be some kind of guage,
And money's just as good as anything else,
Until there is no decent minumum wage.

How To Get Ahead

Be ready for opportunity,
No matter what it is,
By knowing everything at all times,
Even as they go through changes,

For on the cusp is where the money is.
Oops, was that said out loud?
Remember that motivation is born unto,
Not the greedy, but the truly devout,

Or is it riches? There is certainly something,
To be gained by believing that,
What is good for others is good for oneself,
Until you can't afford to ignore fact,

That it's alright,
It seems to find comfort on the backs of others,
Unless your convinced you'll get yours,
In some life lived after.