People Sold For You To Buy

People bought

People sold

People hurt

People left stone cold




People afraid

People laid

People forgotten

People left rotten




For the magic green paper of course

The ticket of gold

One can never have enough

In their possession

Until the paper possess


Alive yet dead


The magic green

The glistening gold you hurt so many for

Turns to dust in the palms of your hand


You spend and spend

Becoming more dead and dead inside

Just like those who’s lives you stole

For the pretty green paper

And the glistening gold


Funny, isn’t it?

How Karma works


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