Perks are for the rich vices

The richer you are;
From guilt & realizations you are too far;
Done something wrong?
Show them money;
It will be hidden & bygone;
Because now they are your pawns.

Corruption, it is like an infection;
Against which there’s no prevention.
Justice, ambition they all just become words;
Because at the end;
Corruption is what rules the world.

It will leech you away;
And make you blind;
Wherein you’ll forget what is it to be kind.
But what good is that money?
What good is that power?
When there are still billions who suffer?

The girl didn’t get the seat;
Because she didn’t give enough donation;
Is this the future of our Nation?
Where knowledge has no power?
Yet, again to this question we have no answer;
Because my friend;
Money & power are the masters.

Being the current generation;
Let’s make empathy & kindness our foundation.
For at the end, when we meet again;
Money or power won’t bring you any gain;
Because all our corpses will be buried beneath the same plain.

Published by penfluky

Writing is not a skill acquired through practice. Not for us, at least. Writing is a phenomenon that occurred to us when we wanted to shout our thoughts out. It happened when our brains formed a labyrinth of thoughts with no way out. The only way was to break the walls, the walls we constructed in our minds—the walls which stopped us from letting ourselves out. We broke the barriers using the mightiest weapon, the pen. Writing was our way out of that maze. Words and sentences flowed like a stream of some river, which consisted of A2Z instead of H2O. Soon the river filled the brain and the labyrinth was not visible anymore.

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