World Wealth in Smoking Guns

a poem by Jayati

When power and money manipulate many,
Can queer myopic vision secure the future of progeny?
What should be done to achieve, peace and harmony?
Who has the power and who has the money?
Exceptionally though, it may cling funny.
Both not to be found in
the pockets of any
Political leaders;
Popular entertainers.
The corporate investor
Or the lucky, lottery winners.
No one is strong no one is capable
Not even the drug dealer, selling legal
Peddlers, of hashish marijuana cannabis
Haven’t much left, paying their accomplice.
Money wielding power do not lie, in, with labels
Be it food, flower, cosmetic, or pharmaceuticals.
Nor the traders, hard narcotics, are thus so very lucky
Able; Sure to call themselves rich real; Basic realities.
Possessing brain, size shapes, square, round, or various
colours, qualities are no proofs of moneyed privileges.
Guarantees come from high rankings. Big shot guns.
Highest cash wins lie, in manufacture, and sales of
weapons. Money in tanks, battens, belligerence.
To see African Mammal with very large eyes?
Has anyone seen magnate, handful in mask.
Gigantic cash flow, in clash and dash!
Businesslike, bushel, 35.2 litres.
Cause disturbance; Mafiosi incognito adrenal neurone strings,
Node, hold ransom, bold leaders in rings. The world unsuspecting.
Amidst chaos, unscrupulous force, compel kill, buy, sell weapons.
Through or beyond defines, Thesis defence? Death mechanisms, pays!
Silhouette signet slay; Earn in death; Staggering wealth; Scrooge in mirth.