This poem needs a title

the blank paper sits and stares,
waiting to for creative thought.
if i write or paint will anyone care?
how much does it matter in a world of suffering? naught!

they tell us lies in the news,
they drip info out so slow.
one could be forgiven for being bemused,
their wicked lies on show.

was are theaters because they were staged,
by men in real smart suits.
no thought for the suffering people enraged,
killing all the small shoots.

The world they sell is a lie,
dead through and through.
just have another nibble of pie,
don't worry it won't kill you.

Have a drink it's safe, they say,
a few chemicals are fine.
Building up day by day,
making us feel blind.

nature's bad, the pills are good,
Despite the facts we are told;
TAKE THEM YOU SHOULD
quick before your ill and old!

corporations are people through and through,
we need them every day
you can sue them and they can sue you,
but the directors never pay.

The earth is shattered by our lives,
not caring for the ant on which we stand.
all for insane people's bullshit lies,
they'll turn our green earth into sand.