I know you feel it. I know you all feel it:
This world is broken; we are broken

 
We walk around and pretend, but our smiles are just tokens
Paper masks that hide a fear, too deep, to be spoken

 
A fear that life may pass us by while we play by this system’s rules
A fear that we failed to even try for fear of looking like damn fools

 
It’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
And this game is really fear, to use another name

 
Instead of being human and being open, we disconnect and play it cool
Instead of love and raw emotion, we stay divided and we act cruel

 
It’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game.
And this game is just the system, to use another name

 
This system has us running around
Like. Empty. Human. Shells.

Too asleep to resist it
And buying everything it sells

 
But can’t you see the bigger picture
Don’t you see the wider trap?

It’s just a ruse to make us feel empty
So we’ll fill the void with material scraps

 
But material objects can’t fill the void
It’s just our money and soul they sap

 
For it’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
And this game is just the rat race, to use another name

 
It’s a race to the bottom
A race to the end

 
We’re isolated and we feel lonely
Despite a million Facebook friends

 
For it’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game

 
“Modern man”, and modern worlds
Obsessed with modern gadgets
These “modern girls”

 
Why not simplify
This “modern world”

 
For it’s a game, it’s a game; it’s all just a game
And this game is social indoctrination, to use another name
And the result is human commodification, total enslavement; such a shame

 
We’re a humanity in crisis
A society in decline

 
But the crux of the crisis, is that the decline is by design

 
For it’s a game, it’s a game
And that’s the essence of the game

© 2018

This white man is not my enemy
No, this white man hasn’t done shit to me

Let’s talk about the E-C-O-N-O-M-Y
That’s the real issue here

Don’t. You. See.

It’s not just about race,
but economic d-i-s-p-a-r-i-t-y

Most white men today are suffering just like me

You see, the problem aint with the majority
But a tiny little minority:

The Uber Wealthy Authority
That enslave us through financial s-u-p-e-r-i-o-r-i-t-y

Black and brown do have it worse

But economic suffering is a global curse
Orchestrated by and for the globalists’ purse

And when we turn on each other
We. Make. The. Situation. Worse

For divide and conquer is an age old trick

It makes the majority weaker
And the rich more slick

Able to stop us from seeing our common plight
And prevent us from waging a common fight…

Against the ones with all the Authority:
That. Uber. Wealthy. Minority.

© 2018

Author’s Note: The white man I refer to in this poem is the everyday man on the street. The working class (or unemployed) man that is struggling to pay his bills and survive. While he may not be racially profiled while driving or shopping, he is not privileged in my mind—since privilege is tied to wealth.