Juliia

Sin: Greed

The streets are bristling, oh sea of gray and black,
They climb the glass-sided ladders to the sky,
And golden tips glint, threatening attack.

The staircase to heaven is shrinking back,
The mob is shouting every possible lie,
The streets are bristling, oh sea of gray and black.

This conurbation of heights e'er offtrack,
In which Hell burns a hundred stories high
And golden tips glint, threatening attack.

Credible lies seep from each sidewalk crack,
Their clamor drowns out the incessant cry,
The streets are bristling, oh sea of gray and black.

Well, for the right price, some would break Mom's back,
Casualties are pennies – not people – who die,
And golden tips glint, threatening attack.

Lilliputians longing to escape the bivouac,
Groping for a slice of the "pie",
The streets are bristling, oh sea of gray and black,
And golden tips glint, threatening attack. 

The End

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