The Weaponized Dollar
The dollar glints, a gilded snare,
Its power stretching everywhere.
From bustling streets to foreign shores,
It whispers deals, it opens doors.
But wielded sharp, it cuts too deep,
A tyrant’s leash, a debt to keep.
A tool to build, a blade to bind,
Its shadow looms in hearts and minds.
In fragile lands, it plants its seed,
A promise wrapped in quiet greed.
Loans that chain, aid that blinds,
A velvet chokehold, ties that bind.
Its value sways, a cunning game,
Eclipsing currencies by name.
Empires rise, their rivals fall,
Beneath the dollar’s chilling thrall.
It fuels the wars, it draws the lines,
Defines what’s theirs, reclaims what’s “mine.”
A weapon cloaked in bright disguise,
A gentle voice that stifles cries.
Oh, dollar, symbol of the free,
Your chains encircle land and sea.
What hands can grasp, what hearts can hold,
A weapon forged of paper gold?
May we unmask the veiled control,
And seek a world where peace is whole.
For wealth should heal, not tear apart—
True power lies in human heart.
( Author unknown).
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