We are wasted
In this time
Giant mechani
Ripping apart
Our land
The only work
Is to tend them
As they break
Our nation
Into their profit
Wipe your finger
Across the counter
And taste the dust
That once fed millions
Now toxic
We the people
Are only moved by
What can it get
Where are your
Connected by
A wireless signal
There . . . but not
For the grace of God
Go we the people
Untethered, unmoored
We drift
Always looking
Always hoping
Standing in line
For some new toy
Our homes dug up
My the mechani
Our farms dried up
By the problem
That doesn’t exits

Faint Hope

Close your eyes
Open your eyes

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