[ WP ] There have been so many dystopian stories set in a world where Communism and Totalitarianism run wild , write one where Capitalism is now the bad guy

The rich own every thing. 
 
 Trust me, inside this dome we live. We as in the people. We toil. We work. We squander our short short life. We suffer. Just for the sake of staying in the dome, under the protection of the rich. Staying away from the cruel unforgiving fallout. We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't. 
 
 Sometimes, we wonder whether we deserve to be working this hard... but no, we do n't have any choice. We wish we did. But no, we do n't. Either we die or we work. As simple as that. For food, we scringe, sort through the piles of remains of the richer ones. We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't. 
 
 Every morning, as I sweep the streets, I see the rich sending their kids to school, going to work. By work, I mean for those who are in charge of us. Those who do n't, simply play. And, I cry. Like so many others.We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't. 
 
 In the afternoon, I watch the rich in their stiff suits and fancy dresses skip towards the many restaurants. My open wounds from falling down sting. Yet, that is the least of my concerns. The reason I cry is different. My stomach grumbles. I can smell the aroma of the food, that ends up being wasted. Like so many, I cry as I make my way to the dumps. There, I find a stale half eaten burger. And yet I take it. It's the only choice. Like the so many of us, I suffer. We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't. 
 
 In the dark deserted alleys and dirty run-down buildings we lie on the cold hard floor. We sigh as we try to sleep. But no, we ca n't. It's the regime of the rich kids. They disturb us. Sure, some are nice. But most are n't. The good ones leave us alone and just make noise. The bad ones? I do n't want to talk about them. Every night, we think about the lives of the rich, and compare it to ours. We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't. 
 
 Sometimes, we wish, we hope and we dream. We wish that we had a different choice, that we were n't the place we were in. We hope it would improve. We dream that... we were n't the poor. But ultimately, our dreams, our hopes all futile. Despair fills us up. And yet, we carry on with our non-existent lives, always a little emptier than before. Till we become shadows, empty shells of our former selves. We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't 
 
 We wish we had a different choice. But no, we do n't. 
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 Okay, this is shitty. I was planning on writing a better story but I guess I was sleepy. I'm sorry guys... 
 
 Edit: Okay, made it better. Only slightly though...
