No Use Tangling with Uncle Sam

It's not as if there's nothing left to fight. There's nothing
Left with which to fight. The bastards have it all.
I cannot canter down the sidewalk slapping slack-
Jawed faces, shouting, “Wake up, stupid! Don't you
Know you're learning lies? You're turning into tools
Of the ones who've taken what you had. You're being
Used to kill the only thing that might have offered help.”
I do not have the strength for that, nor hope that any
Of the stupefied would suddenly awake. I'd be ignored,
And sent to jail, to sit within a group whose members
Never question their confinement. Like their betters
On the sidewalks, they accept what they've received,
So I, in sullen silence, simply scurry to my little home
To draw the drapes, to curse this nation, knowing
That I needn't fight. The land's no longer what it was.
It's sick and bleeding. Soon, it will expire on its own.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 16 times
Written on 2011-01-07 at 21:03

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