The American Dream Poem by DM W

I see traces of the American dream
In power centres; where hawks devour doves.
I see it as a form of propaganda,
As it pursues its globalized agenda.
In its' broken backyard, blood flows like water.
In the Middle East, regime change reigns supreme.

I see traces of the American dream
In celebrity playgrounds governed by greed.
To be honest, I'm so tired of dreaming.
I'd rather frequent a hard headed chemist's:
Who would listen to my plethora of woes,
And prescribe a strong dose of reality.