When Money Speaks

When Money Speaks

When money speaks,
it does not conjugate words,
it simply imprisons them in its treasuries.
It crushes sentences,
turns statements into decrees,
and auctions off meanings.

Sitting at the head of the table,
it takes a bite of broken sentences,
swallows half-baked ideas,
and declares—
"I hold the power!"
And no one corrects it.

Poets, who once sang songs of love,
now sell poetry in bottles of fragrance.
Philosophers, who sought truth,
now write slogans for corporations.
Teachers, who were lamps of light,
are now silent,
because the fees must be paid.
Journalists, who were guardians of truth,
now fill headlines with the colors of advertisements.

Money speaks,
and grammar gasps its last breath.
No regard for pauses, no care for clarity,
it only speaks in fragments,
in bold letters,
in emojis,
in the deceit hidden in fine print.

It whispers in closed rooms,
shouts in election campaigns,
and cunningly plays in the fine lines of contracts.
It knows the language of power—
where every word is a transaction,
every sentence a deal,
and every meaning has a price.

Now freedom is called "deregulation,"
justice, "loopholes."
Democracy?
It is now written in invisible ink.

We search for truth in the noise,
but we know—
here, corruption is the currency,
and silence…
is weighed in gold.

MyKoul