The Fortress of the Mighty

In Steemit’s digital domain,
the mighty share, the weak abstain.
A circle tight, a bond of steel,
they hold the power, seal the deal.

New voices whisper, soft and small,
they try to rise, yet always fall.
Each hopeful cry fades with the breeze,
for only power earns the keys.

Upvotes flow, like gold they gleam,
but only in the mighty’s stream.
The fortress stands, its gates are barred,
for those outside, the climb is hard.

"Create great content, join the game!"
The platform lures, but hides its shame.
Behind its glossy, mirrored veil,
lies only silence, cold and stale.

The mighty nod, they praise their kind,
their trash is gold, their wit refined.
A hollow post, a shallow jest,
yet thousands deem it “one of the best.”

Quality? A phantom phrase,
lost in envy’s choking haze.
True talent sparks, yet rarely stays,
for jealous eyes snuff out its blaze.

No room for truth, no space for art,
envy’s poison rots the heart.
A fleeting star may try to rise,
but crushed beneath, it quickly dies.

And so, the system cold and bare,
feeds some with scraps, leaves most in despair.
Who dares will lose, who stays will see:
This hollow world kills honesty.