Pursuing Power
A blossoming flower,
Reaching out for the sun,
The casting of its shadow,
Does not concern this one.
It reaches for power,
And when it is done,
It takes all it can,
A gluttonous one.
An uncanny valley,
A millennial birthright,
To be a worker by day,
And a rebel by night.
Too late to find purpose,
Too early to see light,
Too angry to comply,
Too fearful to fight.
The culture of hustle,
The goal to get ahead,
To drink yourself stupid,
Before you go to bed.
To separate the classes,
To keep the highers fed,
To ask for basic kindness,
And met with treachery instead.
But power is a poison,
To all those who pursue,
A tasty, salty, dry martini,
Leaving everyone thirsty anew.
Unicorn blood drips down the chin,
And into the mouths of the used,
Lies of power promised to masses,
True happiness reserved for the few.
