ode to the ABSA add

my bank is corrupt
my bank is greedy, is selfish, and an unforgiving self serving machine
my bank buys poets to cheapen their words for its cause
my bank takes these words of poetry and sells it to mass media corporations
with an aim to brain wash as many viewers as possible to buy into the image
of my bank
my bank sells businesism as a religion, my bank fills peoples hearts
with the empty hopes and dreams of money
my bank stands for nothingness, and its soul is empty
my bank in itself is no threat, but it’s lack of imagination, it’s dullness of spirit
its banality makes me want to vomit
my bank will hate me for these words
my bank will threaten me with lawsuits for speaking my truth, for
not falling in line
and if my bank can’t silince me by legal means they will pursue illegal ones
but my bank doesn’t realize that that they can do nothing to me that can’t be done
they are mere manipulators
my bank evokes a sick society upon a sick society
my bank is my hatred, my sorrow, my ignorance, and the bleakest past
to my bank I’m just a number, a no name, a figure, a graph, a statistic
my bank wriggles it’s wormy body into cyberspace, and manipulates every
dot com for its own gain
my bank is always flawed, cause it doesn’t understand the meaning of love
ABSA, never today, never tomorrow, never together