Supply

Don’t usually post on a Tuesday or say anything before a poem post, but I wrote this and thought seeing as it is pretty apt at the moment I would.

Looking out from a window on high
Feeling the need to shout and cry
What has happened to the people?
All of them seem so unequal
Stripping out what we all must buy
When did sense wave goodbye
Hoarding inside their panicked brains
They should all just feel ashamed
Shake my head at all those around
None are listening to the sound
Instead they think of just themselves
While making bare all the shelves
What a sight it is to see
Never thought it would come to be
But here it is with all its madness
Bringing nothing but strain and sadness
Survival of the fittest is a lie
The paranoid will live to die
So think instead of just react
You are making fiction fact