“Please, my friends, tell them not to call me a greedy demon, it’s just not fair!”

Said the desperately poor billionaire to his celebrity propogandist politicians.

And so, the politicians went out, preaching loud to working-class crowds,

But were only able to embody the reason why democracy fell to oligarchy,

Unable to acknowledge a sickness of greed in the heart of their loyal friend.

For it is expectation concealed as loyalty,

That has such disastrous long-term ends.

But don’t you know, my dearest politician friends,

It’s from your wealth of ‘friends in heavenly places’,

That democracy became a baseless spool operation.

A billionaire's regal coronation, decades lasting,

For a classy clang visiting the same party islands,

Drinking youth from the brightest golden goblets,

The twisted culty agreements of capital hoarders,

The technowebs spreading poisoned network lies,

The empire rolling along their bossy crazed heads,

The guns of poverty firing so streets turned home,

And bullets offshored to distant darker skin tones.

But each psychotic tear from a billionaire,

Is a step closer to revealing a better world.

For they are flaws in our system,

Believing themselves exceptional,

And so they impose lavishly on all,

As supermen offering us salvation.

But when we see them as what they are, with their sick, desperate need,

And their utter lack of moral character, or true ethical social engagement,

Is when we will allow ourselves become who we must be for this moment,

Seeing past their sly networks of propaganda and hurried financial control,

Not believing their constant victimhood and mythical tales of ostracization.

So, let me reiterate, my politician friends - in case you’re still unsure:

We can’t all get along. Sad, but true.

Do you not see, the wage-slaved, impoverished and precariat have legitimate enemies,

And no, it is not that nation or ethnicity over there, nor is it a neighbour down the road,

It’s upon them who’ve stolen so much, that they then flipped, creating a world of charity.

Their richest donations dazzling all, pinning their gleeful smiles,

But prosperity was denied, and democracy happily purchased.

I shield not the billionaire from an appropriate recourse of titles,

For they are well-established to weather the storm they created,

But also, a demon’s saintly mouthpiece, I do not wish to defend as.