From the top you savor the filth as far as the eye can see
At the bottom forced to taste it, breathe it, blinded though you be
In the precarious middle purchased on its slippery slope
Snapping teeth below blood drains hate confused with hope
Days gone by with endless promise stolen quiet
Silence such as this too hard to bear your heart demands to riot
Who can speak for you against the dread hitched on your back
Who can see through lies or promises disguising their attack
Born into the bondage of Mammon’s filthy straitjacket
Indispensable their monopoly strangles by its racket
Are we sliding down the hill or crawling grimly higher just a little?
Judgement paralyzed parlous we pray for our acquittal.