Hunted Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Sacred history like ice castles melt
Myth balloons fly decorated with smiles
Mary stood at the cross crushed
Parents die, divorce, children die
Money stolen by banks, unions busted
Our good little world crashes

Let the rich run for their gated communities
Let the robbers by law hide in mansions
Your game is crumbling
Take the number of the beast
Make your deals with pride
Call your robbery freedom

The imperialists, the colonialist
The killers of the natives
The slave owners
The robbers of land
You liars of in Money We Trust
Your debt to the devil is ending

You are the hunted