In the chambers of power, they twisted the law,
Where money speaks louder, it's raw and it's flawed.
The little guy's burden grew heavier yet,
In a system of debt, that's cast like a net.
Bankruptcy's refuge, once open and fair,
Now wrapped in red tape, with a cold, stony stare.
For the small, humble debtor, the path is much steeper,
While the rich man's escape grows notably cheaper.
Fat cats in silk suits, they chuckle and grin,
Knowing the laws help their kind to fit in.
They dance round obligations with a sly, cunning wink,
While the little guy's hopes continue to sink.
Once a solace for many, now a game for the few,
The laws that were just are now askew.
The scales of justice seem weighted, not right,
Favoring those who can afford the fight.
High and dry are the creditors left,
Victims of this acquisitive theft.
Yet they're the ones with the strength to endure,
It's the little guy's pain that is harder to cure.
In the dance of the debtors, the music's gone sour,
Echoing the tune of the powerful's hour.
The promise of relief, once real and near,
Is lost in the wind, to the fat cat's cheer.
But let us remember, as the night falls deep,
The strength of the small is not cheap.
For laws may change, and the fat cats may thrive,
But the spirit of the little guy will forever strive.
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