Planned Obsolescence Poem by Christian Connor Schwantes

The nation of greed
Manifest the nation of need
The hand that once fed us
Has planted the seed
It has started to grow
Taking us whole
Binds us to the blind man’s path
The nation of greed
Finds its need
Squeezing our sin so tightly
Golden reins with diamond veins
Upon a sleight of silver bones
Make your own choice
The box is black
Lock it, or pick it
Jack it, who cares
Pandora’s recession
Only choose once
So what will it be
The land of the free
Or the home of the need