The number one thing wasting away at poor peoples finances,

Is they’ve not claimed their fair share of our stately inheritance,

Allowing billionaires to rampage as moralizing bloated whales. 

 I mean, what could a billionaire possibly know about everyday living?

And there's no such thing as a good billionaire, none that I’ve ever seen,

And a billionaire living humble in a small home, is just a vanity spectacle,

Swimming as a mythological beast, currenting tales of personal genius,

When in reality, they are merely a byproduct of the flaws in our system.

But on their death bed, God will look upon them with such shame,

And question how they lived so calloused with their stolen hordes,

As children rotted before guns, and caregivers starved to provide,

As the homeless wandered streets and forests burned to toxic air.

And no matter what defense they respond,

He shall laugh booming loud and tell them:

‘Hell is warmed full by the richest men!

It's why at written dawn, I opened its pit,

To ingest civilization's many patriarchs.'

And then She shall swirl a black holed abyss that will consume them whole,

But instead of renewing their energies to pool on the other side into heaven,

She will let them dissipate in hellish resistance, erased from the unconscious.

For nothing in this life, as disgusting as a wealth hoarder, shall peacefully pass.