In this world of fake things
Where nothing is real

Nothing is authentic
And the market rules us all

There is no room
For real friendship

We are all using each other
To get ahead

So we pretend to be friends
All the time

Plotting against our so called friends
To get ahead

The market rewards the most vicious
Sociopathic values rule the market

Friendship is for wimps
And Losers

Those winners end up
Alone all alone

For they have no real friends
But boy do they have real enemies

For in this fake world of ours
Perhaps hate is the one real emotion
That has survived

from poetry chapbook, "Fake Things"