Free?

Frantically written.
More prose than Eros
Lazy I guess, when I make it a read
Click click click goes my YouTube geyser

Spreading all the love
Like magic in the jungle
Finding lost souls
But it's only a mirror

A mirror to a madness
The bard suffers til dawn
Eating only a loaf of bread to feed his family
No butter no salt like the bourgeois have
We wear the same clothes because that's all we have

A knock at the door, the capitalists waltzed in
Taking half the bread, leaving crumbs for the family
A belly full the man takes the tea.
He splits it in three
Two for him and one for you

But he has more tears on his hill, he just collects the tea, from the man who grows the corn in what is now megalomarts field.

He makes you pay him, so you work for a meal. No sleep anymore and the kids have gout.
The capitalists man comes back with machinery, to do the families work, and the capitalists nods and the family can't strike with only three, so October approaches, men throw up their hats.

You can be, without the pressure of not being free.