Illusion of choice

 I pity every being, good and kind,

On the racetrack of eternal power aligned.

I recall each forceful shiver,

Of every popular rule's ambitious fever.

The pillars were constructed from the start,

On wealth and madness, set apart.

And you, instead of growing disillusioned,

Attempted to take hold of the confusion.

They tossed you warm and meager crumbs,

Placed you in offices, dreary and numb,

Gave you money, bloody from their sums,

Bathed you in rights absurd and dumb.

They raised the pillars firm and high,

Above the reach of any sky,

And left the people in the waters deep,

In poverty and plagues that never sleep.

In the final move of this grim match,

They conceived the era's clever patch:

To feed you empty, flashy claims,

With fables of participation's aims—

An illusion of choice, a hollow name,

To live drenched in the system's frame,

And keep consuming, to be content the same,

While the sadistic master boasts his game.