Taiwan

Cheap, the price for happiness,
All that glimmers fair,
Things which can be bought and sold,
And graced with jewels so rare.

But what of joy and giving,
Of creative art unique,
Of things which are yet hidden,
Of tales with which to speak?

A country often bares the brunt
Of a people who demand,
Impatience, and a lack of love,
For material thus embalmed

With iron fist of business,
Which tailors for the mass,
And seeks to dominate, at best,
The sheep of life confessed.