In this land where power wears a crown,
The poor endure, their lives weighed down.
Behind locked doors, stolen gold piles high,
Skeletons smirk where the shadows lie.

Spending all your money to pay the fee,
All you want to do is try and break free,
They drain your hope and weigh your breath,
Grief-filled days unravel toward death.

They sit and pretend to be kings and queens,
Crafting scripts behind our screens.
All of their hands are stained with red, 
While your whole life hangs by a thread.

They call it justice, but the rich man strolls with ease,
While the poor man stumbles, brought down to his knees.
Locked up in drug charges, you can’t pay the cost,
While dynasties walk free for life, you’ve lost.

As you run through a maze of their own lies,
Your youth flashed before your eyes.
You dug up your own grave; once you fight,
You scream and shout, yet nobody’s in sight.

–

NOTE: This literary piece was published in the April 2025 Tabloid Issue of Atenews. Grab a physical copy for free in the Atenews office.