2024 Poem by Gregory Huyette

The year is 2024.
A chasm between the rich and poor
Has reached a stage of feudal times.
For the poor rights are no more;
For the rich there are no crimes.
What once was ruling middle class
Has faded away like winter grass.
That worker's home, once so sublime,
Now only rents as prices climb.
Wealth and power are with those few
Who hoard it and pursue
Every chance to enhance their throne,
Each day leaving poor more alone.
Like Greece and Rome two hundred years
Hail turbulent change with truculent fears.
America can't turn back to safer shore
Its ship is listing in 2024.

China has spoken with its $5000 car,
Superior to what was Detroit by far.
Unemployed flood streets, but can't find,
Nor keep mortgages from falling behind.
Rich buy their homes as values crash;
Then rent back gaining more cash.
Crime rises when hopeless turn to stealth,
While privileged few fortress their wealth.

With nothing to lose, these poor attack
The wealthy, who fiercely fight back
From bastions of privilege and power,
Inflicting horrible losses as they devour
Hoards of poor as conflict rages on
Three years till established power is gone.
Smoky skies and blood drenched tears
Again chronicle man's brutal, selfish years.