Young Writers Society

In the midst of corruption
Where there seems to be no perfection
Where the rich riles the poor
And the hungry feed on opression


What shall they gain,
In greed and in threat
But all shall be in vain
And the earth shall rust their feet


Where the oor is sober
Looking for a place to shower
The rich and mighty
Shall all be in power

There was a typo:
"Where the oor is sober"
I think you mean poor. It wasn't really my type of poetry, but it was written fine.