This poem is a work in progress. It doesn't rhyme, because I hate rhyming. It could sorta be used as a song too, with some changes. It's not finished, but I wanna know what everyone thinks of it. You grew up in a white painted house, Number thirty-four, just off Elm, Your daddy was a rich investment banker, Your momma in her apron, Stayed home baking cookies Two cars parked in the driveway, One'll be yours when you turn sixteen, Every day, you'll drive it over to your fancy private school, Because when your daddy's a rich investment banker, His son deserves a better chance You've got everything you've ever wanted, Plasma screen TV, an Xbox, finest gaming PC there is, But do all these possessions really make you happy? You think they do, because that's what they tell you, Make money so you can buy things, That will make you happy, because you deserve it! But did you ever stop to wonder, Why does killing things on a screen make me happy? Well of course you didn't, wanna know why? I'll tell you a little secret, It's because you're a you're a corporate slave! They tell you that you want this, therefor you do It's called consumerism, baby! They say jump, you say how high? If it's in fashion you have to have it! I'd say to stick to what you like, But you don't know what you like anymore! You like what they put in front of you this month, and that's all
Not bad, though if you want to use it as a song simply for the flow of it you might want to add a little more rhyme. The rhythm isn't bad, but again without rhyme it's hard for a reader to keep the authors pace if you get me. Also find another way to say " it's because your a corporate slave," it seems to come out in a forced manner.
