Disposable Futures

A splintered hull, a ragged sail,

Adrift upon a lifeless trail.

Capsules glint like stolen stars,

Caught in currents of human scars.

A cup discarded, barcode bare,

Whispers stories of despair.

What cost, this raft, this shattered dream?

The toll of health, a muted scream.

Waves of syringes, vials, and dust,

Built on a system we dared to trust.

Yet here it lies, this fragile boat,

Burdened by debts that barely float.

No horizon, no guiding hand,

Only waste that claims the sand.

A sea of profit, vast and deep,

Where lives are traded, not to keep.

But still, a sail, though frail and torn,

A sign that hope can yet be born.

Amidst the waste, a call to stand,

To heal the wounds and cleanse the land.