The Plot

Chasing money to put gold in a pot,

Ground beneath your feet continues to rot,

Plotting the destruction of a species,

With pieces of paper spreading disease,

I'm pleased I can spend my energy,

Sending love through my transactions,

Knowing the impact within the action,

Gaining traction in satisfaction,

I can track truth within my reaction,

It's a distraction from the earth,

Spending lives collecting worth,

Since birth we've been trained,

Financial gain is the name of the game,

And the same source feeding you,

Being carved,

Starved within your view,

Through every hour devouring time,

The crime goes unnoticed,

Climbing into bed for the day ahead,

With a head full of thought,

Taught to reach for gold,

We sold our power to the dollar,

As Earth hollers for help,

Scholars tell of a prophecy,

Sit silently repeatedly to see,

Selling their Ideas for money,

Can somebody tell me why,

Our poor planet has to die,

Because you're trying to buy a plot,

That's rotting beneath the feet,

Of a species who needs it to eat.