This is America,
Home of mass hysteria,
Where life is inferior,
And guns, we got plethora.
This is soil,
Where blood boils,
Water, thicker than oil,
Psychologically wound like coils.
This is the place,
Where you get erased,
Virological debates,
And politically defaced.
I'm so cool like whoa
FDA all in your bowl,
Control your menstrual flow
So new birthrates be real slow.
This is America.
Those Eyes...
Those beautiful eyes
which pierce my soul;
pierce me deep,
so bright
like the light
in the end when we weep.
Is it Heaven that calls me forth,
beckons a return?
So searing,
those endearing
eyes that burn.
It was a black hole.
A nasty, filthy, dirty emptiness.
It was dark and damp and
creatures lived there.
You couldn't see them,
but you could hear their voices;
their ugly words;
hate-filled speeches;
statements with a single purpose:
to propagate divisions.
It was a hole of emptiness
stuck to his face
where a mouth should have been.
"President Trump encouraged supporters…to vote twice, once by mail and once in person — which is illegal…."
-CBSNews.com
Fleeting and often in disrepair yet equal: Justice
is but a memory.
Agents of Peace; executors of law; fleshly bulwarks of freedom
is but a memory.
Simple smiles, honest handshakes, and polite hellos from perfect strangers
is but a memory.
Blue metal containers fed licked and sealed paper pouches
is but a memory.
And now
we're being told to
test the voting system
by voting twice...
Soon
fair elections
will be
just a memory.
Dear John,
What is it about the law,
That barely visible ink,
Embedded in
Thin worn paper
That feels like
Cauterized flesh.
What is it about enforcers of law,
These abattoir workers,
These human scythes,
Pushing the poor through slaughter lines
With each call for help they receive.
Is he the thief you spoke of?
The man dressed in blue
Waving gun and wearing shield
Whose oath, not to protect and serve
But rather to kill.
This is America, Home of mass hysteria, Where life is inferior, And guns, we got plethora. This is soil, Where blood boils...
