The Nonproductive Net

In marble halls they sit and preen, Behind desks worth more than what we glean In months of labor, sweat and toil, While they trade our future like foreign oil.

Red ties, blue ties, all the same shade Of empty promises, decisions delayed. They craft their speeches, perfect their pause While freedom crumbles under their laws.

“Vote!” they cry, as if we're blind To how they've left us all behind. Our ballots cast like coins in wells, Each wish forgotten before it settles.

From golden thrones they watch it burn, The democracy they claim to serve. “Patience,” they whisper, “Trust the plan,” While tyrants rise across our land.

So keep your pleas for help, your calls For unity behind your walls. Your inaction speaks far louder than The hollow words you cast like sand.

We'll save ourselves, we always do, Build strength in spaces far from view. Your power's borrowed, temporary, A loan that we will soon cease carrying.

Those who stand beside us now, Who prove their worth through deed somehow, Will find our hands still reaching out The rest will learn; they’ll soon “find out.”

For we have learned this bitter truth: Your silence purchased gave us proof. No saviors sit in chambers high, Just merchants trading in our lives.

So sleep well in your marble keeps, While we grow stronger in the deep. Your legacy of nothing done Will echo when your time is gone.