Conglomerates control the corn
unconcerned with who’s a husk
they only sniff when stalks are shorn
for monetary musk,
oblivious to growling guts
and sunken, hollow eyes
they cultivate unyielding ruts
with hopes the price will rise;
these moguls of the upper tiers
could care what cause is born
our voices fall on deafest ears—
conglomerates control the corn.
Are You Reading Me?
Why use it for food when you can make fuel with it? Another commodity.
ReplyDeleteWhat's a few million hungry souls mean to the conglomerates compared to the price they can get?
Nice writing, Bob.
I love the way you play with words and still get your point across...Sad but true. :)
ReplyDeletevery nice play on words and play with words - esp like the title ... as Shirley said, "sad, but true"
ReplyDeleteRichly worded poem, Bob. Food for profit is a sad human reality
ReplyDeleteBrilliant! Ticks all the boxes for me.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad no one thought it was too corny ;^)
ReplyDelete