Lies we tell each other

.

Money greases wheels that turn

The world around, and

I am not lost, I’m found

The bigger men will harder fall, for they

Lack our humble cushion

Our enemy is Russian

.

Fulfilment comes consuming this

Joy is made through data

I’m just a late starter

When we wish on falling stars

Trickle-down comes calling

All poetry is boring

.

The common good embraces this;

My own accumulating

Stress is not enervating

Christmas comes but once a year

We show great love through spending

Our world is never ending