They built their towers, high and grand,
But left the streets, forgotten land.
The hungry, cold, and broken hearts,
Abandoned like discarded parts.
With wallets fat and eyes so wide,
They bought their wars, no place to hide.
Weapons, bullets, bombs for war,
While children starved on every floor.
They drill in space, drill in the ground,
While back at home, no help is found.
Drilling deep in Atlanta’s core,
While hope evaporates, once more.
Bombs dropped deep into the sea,
As if the earth’s wounds aren’t plain to see.
Yet they turn around and point the blame,
As if they’re not the ones to shame.
They’ve ruined lands, and oceans too,
While blaming us for what they do.
The damage done, the truth so clear,
But still, they stand without a tear.
And now they say, “The world is torn,”
While they’re the ones who’ve left it worn.
We’re left to clean the wreck they’ve made,
But they, the culprits, still evade.
So as they fly to space and skies,
We see through all their painted lies.
They point their fingers, shift the blame,
But we know who’s truly caused the flame.
©zars
Z