I deserve it,

I worked it,

I dealt it,

you smelt worse.

break the constant,

meandering torrents,

washed away worlds,

no more sad twirls.

if wealth is all we have,

no family,

no friends,

no use,

no depends,

what’s left is all there is.

no worries,

no self,

no panic cries,

no hurt.

the poor stories,

dickensian,

dystopian,

clickbait.

the lies from their eyes,

stare blankly back out again.

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a lie to the rich