cabaret’s repeated chant,
is this the root of all things bad?
if craving more, reptilian greed
is celebrated everywhere I turn,
then yes, I have to say it is.
when a day’s reward
for honest work
is not enough to live on
yes, I say!
when few of those
who have the lion’s share
will say I am enough,
I have enough,
and feel compelled to fill
their lives with excess that
the Romans would have loved,
oh yes, I shout.
when children wander
aimless in a wasteland
made of silicon and noise,
lacking book, or brush, or song,
no love of life or hope,
I can only weep, this is the harvest
of that root.

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For Day 7 of NaPoWriMo, prompted for a poem about the dollar.