Change

He slumps as he rests his slack hands on the wheel
And looks through his expensive car’s windscreen
Outside the shopfronts forlorn, an elderly male starving at a kneel
And so he wept at the desolate, sad scene

Only material and possession to hold
And objects for the system of bought and sold
The assets of life accumulated by amount
That we only want what we can count

At the sight of wealth and gluttony
The towers blow off colour storm for monetary
As capital and currency only matter
And money and luxury comes not latter

The streets are of the homeless and poor
And the rich walk through mansion doors
No fair or equal trade, only open for gain
Yet still hungry and angry masses remain

These destitute masses ask the system
Asking desolately if it will ever listen
Marching and saying change is at need
To counter the public anguished seed

And so he drove away with a new resolution, seeing different out his clean screen
Something to keep hold, something that could not be enumerated
A strong sense of desire to change it after what he had just seen
A new feeling manifested inside, a thought that it was not too late