Dreams aren’t always simple.

Go to school and follow your dream. Absorb the knowledge, a rocky stream, that’ll lead to college. High-brow vitriol, all of it seems designed to keep the little guy safe in his roll, of serving the upper-echelon of hate, berate, with the faux-power they create.

Manufactured on the backs of slaves while they procreate, generations of wealth evacuated from the drain of poverty.

Anything to maintain the facade, that God, made them superior to their fellows. The ones who work tirelessly to turn the wheels of the fallows, a despicable gallows.

The artificial needs,

of the one,

outweighing millions of starving.

So we tell the plods, to get a fucking job. To pull themselves up by their bootstraps, the same ones we tore.

Reassuring each-other that we followed the dream that they didn’t,

because they’re weak, unworthy, inferior.

If they were like us, why didn’t they follow their dreams?

How can they? When our cocaine arteries bleed nothing but green.

A cancerous greed leads to crushing deeds. Evil. And I’m part of that. What a thing to feel both guilt and relief, that I can pay to eat. 

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