General Discussion

There once was a nation in thrall
To illusions both shiny and tall.
A billionaire’s gift
Gave the markets a lift,
But gave kids next to nothing at all.

The Dells dropped a fortune with flair,
And the headlines applauded the pair.
Yet the act, if unmasked,
Shows the public been tasked
With pretending that crumbs are fair share.

The state could have bolstered the poor,
Built schools, raised the wages, and more.
But instead it contrived
A scheme pre-survived
By the markets that ate them before.

Two-fifty sounds kind at first glance,
But it’s really a market romance.
Kids are drafted to play
In the Wall Street ballet—
Unwilling, unarmed for the dance.

Now welfare’s no longer a right;
It’s a billionaire’s game-day delight.
If they choose to bestow
A small charitable glow,
We must praise them from morning ‘til night.

First you starve all the systems to bone,
Till the public is weary and prone.
Then a rich man appears,
Wins applause, wins careers,
For a drop from the wealth he’s alone.

Each cheer for the savior’s “good deed”
Hides the truth of a deeper misdeed:
That the state’s stepped aside,
Let the markets preside,
And called it fulfilling a need.

So folks look at the gift and say “Hey—
It might help the kids… maybe… someday.”
But they don’t dare admit
What’s at heart of the pit:
That the country has walked away.