BIG PHARMA' And The FILTHY LUCRE.
There's a rainbow slowly fading, where hero's once took a bow.
All that applause through open doors are an illusion to me now.
The young must live with guilt they don’t recognise,
Immune from all the consequence of blame
Road signs have been turned around the other way,
While the old can barely harmonise their pain.
Schools are testing theories not yet proven,
Administered by those employed to teach.
'Iconoclastic thought will not be tolerated'!
As computer-generated lessons preach.
They’re shooting promos of the testing stations,
With a backdrop of a tower block in flames.
Sepia-coloured faded reminiscences; a tarpaulin-covered
Tattooed hearts refrain.
It's rumoured we’re the product of someone’s master plan,
But the colour of a passport says little of who I am.
Masks and overalls are de-rigeur,
Worn like a prisoner’s ball and chain.
The lexicon of all is now familiar with
The names of Pharma’ giants and the strains
Of a virus that mutates like politicians,
And vaccines with unfamiliar names.
While money doesn't talk it swears,
The richest countries all get theirs
There's profit to be made, trading on misery.
I may be wrong; I've been down so long
But it looks like up to me.