They tied up the farmer, and pushed him aside,
using regulations for rope, and papers.
I thought I might find him,
in the Smithsonian,
where things used to be.
The conglomeration was waiting to eat up his land,
robots and injections to produce fake food.
But he was a fighter, never giving up,
hero with a tractor, and hard work,
he shut down his beef operation,
and came back to life, a resurrection,
and raised –
seeds for food, and liquid gold,
and the conglomeration went away, hungry.
Note: This poem is fictitious but I believe it is not far from the truth.
Poetry © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree