The Measure, By Brian37

After decay,

Collected presidents

Become meaningless

A hollow trophy

The penthouse

On 5th avenue

Is obtained

By the labor of others

Diamonds do not feed

Gold does not build

Yet of these

People hoard

And Limbaugh

Blames you

With your greasy hands

Indentured  slaves he comands

One more hour

Take less pay

Be happy with the gap

It keeps him where he sits

Brass rings

Are the only measure

Slash and burn

At the expense of the workers

Socialism

His false cry

Protect the pick pockets

And their Monty card table

This is our measure

One of wealth

All the others

Are merely pawns

Selling utopias

Of a string less market

No rules no rules

Will keep us going

Untouchables will grow

The die is Caste

The system emulates

A third world class

Antoinette's frosting

Is the cost of jobs

Hands stop moving

Manufacturing lost

A gallon of milk

Costs more than gas

We pay for marketing

And packaging

We pay for parachutes

Of corporate heads

Who plunder our wallets

At our expense

They pilot Zeplins

With volatile fuel

Masking it with

Utopia words

Will they be happy

With their caviar

If the rest of us

Are on our own?

Well they be happy

If  wages fall

If we are all sick

And all in dept

We want a sign

Above our nation

"Hard work will set you free"

Just like the Nazis

A race to the bottom

Is what they sell

Step on others

To gain your wealth

The measure

Of success

Is not the size of your wallet

But what you contribute

Those at the top

Fail to see

Without the others

Nothing is what we will be