The system is corrupt.
Where?
It's shared
From one society
To another.
Each nation bursting
From the seams,
Flooded with tears
Of the population's.
Discarded, wanting to be heard
And to hear
What they need to be told.
So, behold,
The truth.
Handed down from the wise
To another,
Both sister and mother,
And son and lover:
Keep living,
Stay in the game,
In the class and off the street.
Take a seat.
Be heard, but listen.
Talk, but don't interrupt.
This system is corrupt.
YOU ARE READING
Poet of the System
PoetryFree-style, I guess. A view of the Who, Why, How, When, and Where of society and the system of it.
