In the belly of the fish is a trap for money
Where generational wealth is stored
Taken away from those down the money chain
While the lucky ones
Sip from the smallest opening
Eyes closed,
With fantasies of a better future

The belly of the fish is a cemetery of dreams
Where talents are of no use
And ideas are not grey enough
A universe where all is black and white
And all that matters
Is scratching an itching back

_Winniefred F Gbemuotor