Dirty Money
What is a billion?
How much is that? How big is that?
In dollars or pounds or euros
or whatever kleptocurrency these
fat cats
prefer to steal,
the dirty money
that the billionaires hide
behind their walls of improperty,
is bigger in their minds
than the worth of all
the little people of the world.
Imagine how much better
those little lives could be
with just a little bit of that
loot.
What do they get from it,
these gross, greedy, Greens,
these African bleeders of the people,
these Russian bare-faced liars and cheats,
these patrician British politician sects?
What do they want it for,
and why do they always want
ever more?
My home city
has a pretty park,
has homes for the poor,
has a museum, and more,
a trust that works for
the people of the city,
all given for the common good
by a man called Graves.
That name will live on, and on, and on
in honour.
The names of these billionaires,
so rich in filth,
will one day be gone,
spat upon,
and soon forgotten.
Payback comes in bitter coin.
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