The dark and the cold are a physical presence
In the tiny hours of this morning
When the sun is but a memory of yesterday
Long since has this winter moved from a season
Just one of four
To a presence, which slips beneath the warmest coats
And into every house where we huddle against it
The continuous, sometimes crippling cold is our conversation
When will it end? How much snow is coming?
It is March, but we dare not wish for spring
With another storm on its way we wait
And all those not of the flat earth society surely know
This is our doing. We brought this cold
With our mockery of the science and
Free market profit driven refusal to make the change
We all know must be made to allow earth to repair itself
They say free market capitalism rights itself
And all wrongs
Now we know that isn’t true
We feel the lie on these tiny hour mornings
When the hope of sun and spring are frustrated
And the very fuels we use to try to hold out the cold
Are ultimately the source of the cold
When the rich preach the free market capitalism
Tell them it’s a lie and it’s always been a lie
The free market is a scam, a sham
A lie to destroy our lives for those whose wealth we produce.
Photo source: Snapshots by ©Nixy J Morales on Flickr (CC BY 2.0)