The blood of Poverty
Poverty is being promoted in the world, but the voice is silent. Silently, they are pushing the idea of poverty in the world to a massive degree. Nothing the likes we have ever seen before. They push it to keep the world spinning.
They allow the people from the lower class to breed away, so more poverty could be born from them. More slaves to work in the mines would feed the narcissism of the rich. That's how the money in the world is being made off the backs of the poor. They allow it by being silent, saying not a word of it. Everything that is wrong in the world happens silently in the background with no noise. While there are times when we see a bit of spotlight on these issues, the light quickly moves on. But the things it pointed out don't.
Everything stays the same; it feels like, a mockery of the system. They wanted us to know these things are rotting in the world, and you can't do anything about it. Because they control the information, our attention moves to other heinous crimes being committed against people. How can you expect people from the middle class to cry when they rip the rewards from the pain that is happening in their own backyard?
They share the joy and celebrate life around the unseen blood of the people that hide in the darkness. They build structures around poverty; it acts as a beacon of degeneracy, where people meet and bend their knees to almighty money.
But there are things in common between the poor and the rich. Being part of these groups doesn't require you to be a saint; you can be evil, and they will let you in. The more I live, the less difference I see between the rich and the poor. They are so alike, part of the same old coin. Both sides push the idea of people to tak the wrong choices in life to get rich and to stay rich.
And there is no way of knowing who these people actually are; the door is always open to anyone who holds power in their hands. Hey, even if a murderer wants to eat food, why would anyone refuse to give them a decent meal?
Everything moves away, and all we can do is watch while it happens in front of our very own eyes. We see the blood getting sucked out of innocent to feed the hungry minds that seek attention. We see children washing away their life on earth on things that are as meaningless as them in the world. The eyes of poverty see its child as another stick in the ever-longing ladder that will help them get to the clouds. The eyes of the rich see the child as another pair of hands that will obey to its predictable death.
In the end, nothing breaks; the world moves on; it's always spinning; it spins, spins, spins. All we can do is stare at the clouds and create a mirror, hoping we will die before the cloud-shaped mirror fades away in the sky.
