Premature Death means nothing unless its someone you know and only then does it mean something to you

The corporates
have a stranglehold
on all of us
immense power
from their lobbying, and they
call the shots
wherever they go shooting
nobody can fight them
any way

many have tried and have ended
on the scrapheap
made to look like nutters
or maybe
have suffered
at the hands of fate
lets put it
and are no longer
active tragically
the little boy who cycled home
and tragically was sprayed
with the pesticide yes glyphosate
so crude and rude
and horrific
but memories they fade
not for his poor mother
who now stands beside
the bloody fields of soya
and the vile shit pesticide
every year the forest is ripped away
its soul
stolen by the sanctimonious ass holes
who control
all of us and soon as slaves
we will hanker for our crust
working on some chain gang
because of course we must
then we shall spray the pesticide
and we shall eat the mud
that they can’t afford in Haiti
it will be mixed with our blood
not
Petrona Villasboa from sunny
Paraguay
who lost her son to glyphosate
in the twinkling of an eye