Blessed By A Stork

Denial produced to replace it with fiction.
Has kept truth reduced.
And made offensive to many,
Who defiantly defend...
Their right to live completely deluding,
A way of life without reality to face.

A fantasized life to live,
Based upon credit to further deepen debts...
To an economy overwhelmed,
By a pretentiousness to live beyond...
More excess to not accept,
Being responsible or held accountable for it.
To ignore and expect,
The economy can survive...
On the back of alibis and accusations to make.
Done to believe this freedom feeds,
Endlessly to exist.
Is...
Nothing more than the act of a child.
Taught to perceive if a tantrum is thrown,
To continue on for awhile.
That same spoiled child,
Will grow older to believe...
No matter if the cupboards are bare.
And repeatedly shown to see,
Everything given to them to receive...
The ones who tried to fulfill their every need,
Can no longer do it.
With no money.

'Do you think money grows on trees?'

'When I asked you where your money to have,
Came from.
You told me it was paper.
And I ain't no fool to know,
Paper is made from wood.
To leave that tree to make money.
Did you lie to me?
Now...
Go chop a tree down and get what I want!'

'Who do you think I am?
Some kind of lumberjack?'

'So now you want me to believe,
You wear more than one hat?'

'You kids know nothing about sweat equity.'

'What?
What do you mean?
I've been here sweating long enough.
Hoping to get what I want.
Without listening to you to now reveal,
What it is you do...
To make my dreams come true.
Get what I want or I'll embarrass you,
Publicly!'

'Where?
Where do you kids come from?
To not grow up but become today's fools!'

'Oh?
So I wasn't dropped on the doorstep,
By a stork to deliver you a blessing from God?
Was that also another lie?'