Dread I Dread

The robotic profit lords
pluck your dimes
in a nickel cascade
off the money tree

People grow money
much like trees grow soil
or the sun produces light
making land fertile
where there's trust-
a desert otherwise

so be steadfast
in the name of progress
pool your money locally
so the children of your community
can swim in it with glee
and eat the bread of life

-too much only makes one glow
from the stardust of Eon, incorporated
reaching a higher energy state
till your veins pump starlight
and your brain bleeds insight-

These quick rich schemes
only profess the winning scenario
as a bird flies it seems so simple
but One travels Earth
and can take nothing for granted
so the Stock Market is a gamble
with its ups and downs that can last 10,000 years

Do we really need more robots
wandering the forests
turning rich earth
into weeds, inhospitable-

where's the progress
in turning barefeet
into iron shoes
which removes mountains
poisons streams
and casts us from
the garden of eden in exile
to scrape in the concrete
hoping a dandelion will grow
in the cracks too many have fallen
just so we have a splash of color

where's the progress
in turning care
into carelessness
learning over
the lessons never writ
that men lived and died to teach

tax the currs that destroy the Earth