By

HOSTILE REALITIES


In a world woven by others 

- selfish strangers of sullied intents

To bear silently their tortures

And never complain, you are condemned


Your life is yours to steer, they say

Your choices yours to make

In truth, a crime to claim control

Liberties false; assurances fake


A bed of roses they laid for you

Yet you mustn’t grumble about the thorns

For the bed of roses they’d take away

But would leave you bruised and forlorn


Everyone’s evil except everyone

Virtue is relative, so is vice

Investing trust is a gamble

Life’s balanced on a roll of dice


Lavish bills load up the hollows

That privation of empathy made

With money souls are bought and sold

For money a million hearts betrayed

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