Capitalism - A poem

The grind 

The rat race

The struggle

The hustle

When you really stop to feel it,

To recognize

Surviving here is a heavy burden

Always around

Telling you to 

Push yourself past your limits

Never finish

Body? what body?

No body

Is going to remember you for the overexertion you did

There is no prize

Mostly health problems

A word to the wise

Community? What community?

Too busy

Surviving and making money to pay the bills

For real

So easy to lose people

No time to even write end of life will

That stoic, steadfast, head down, work ethic hardly serves our survival

And the capitalist benefits hand over

Fist

So much of life is missed

Less over, 

The day is over

Barely having a moment to breathe 

To pour tea

To stop and reflect and connect to me

In this system, there’s a fixation

It's always work

It's always money

It's hardly ever about the meaning or the earth or our well being

When will it end?

How much can you spend?

Or borrow and lend?

Debt becomes her

Death becomes near

Just needing a break from it all

It's too much

To bear

I can't afford

To care

Energy is always destroyed

Never created

In this hellscape

Hope diminished

Keep pushing yourself past your limits

Work is never finished

This thing called business

Is fucked up

Non-human 

Inhumane 

Definitely not sane

We all deserve the same

Rights

To be work optional

To be led by purpose

To have basic needs met

The unconditioned part of you would agree, I'll bet

There's another world possible 

Waiting for us

On the other side of

Resistance