A Lingering Demise Trumped

I know. This nation never stood a chance
Of hanging on to see the finish of the century.
Dim-witted giant, it sold everything it owned
For wars and prisons. Now, it lives on money
Borrowed from across the sea, from those
Who sell it everything it has to have to live.
It's run by those who do not need it. Their
Wealth comes from owning all those factories
Across the sea, and those they rule, pale-skinned
Ciphers, stepping stones, stand open-mouthed,
Uncomprehending that their hatred of the dark,
The poor, the educated, those who've come from
Other lands, is what has kept them atomized
And always beaten down. These things I know,
Would kill the country sometime, fairly soon,
But who'd have thought the ciphers would elect
A vain and stupid man, a crook who can't control
His temper or his ego to their highest office?
It's almost as if, because they realized their
Country's fate, they hoped to end their suffering
By choosing suicide.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 54 times
Written on 2018-04-14 at 15:48

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