The poor little pooh-bears

I’m in a terrible mood. So, here’s a scathing poem I call “The poor little pooh-bears” to match my funk. Enjoy.

*ahem*

The poor little pooh-bears
Because the world has lost its mind
I find myself now passing time
by thinking and stinking up rhyming opinions
to make better sense of some maddening decisions

The world as I see it has largely gone mad
and nary an antidote is to be had
unless you consider the trash they administer
something’s amiss, perhaps even sinister

Our food comes from labs now instead of from farms
but this is ok, let it raise no alarms
profits come first now, of this you must see,
no care must be given to you or to me

we must think of the downtrodden, poor CEOs,
the poor things and their rings and their portfolios
all that lounging and golfing and laying about
we should all come together and help these guys out

I will bow and I’ll grovel and scrape to appease
and plead to eat more of their corporate feces
by golly, gee whiz, why this isn’t so bad
why, I hardly remember why I’d gotten so mad

we should send all our money to them all at once
that way they won’t have to work quite so much
reaching into our pockets pretending they care
come on everybody, we must make this fair!