Bells chime awfully loud,
Infiltrating a once clear mind
Now possessed by dings and tolls.
Puffs of blackened smoke accompany incessant whispers
And a uniform stomping of shoes along the busy street of asphalt.
A flood of hat-donning men absorb the road,
As women gaze from dusty panes and disapprovingly nod
At the odd march occurring streets below.
Flags of old fall down as new crests fly high —
Usurping what was known to be true and redefining unity.
Headlines equivocate: 'A Crisis on Flake Street', though,
If patricians did so, they'd've proclaimed freedom for all.
A conflagration of deceit and embellishments runs rampant
And joins those men parading the streets to their clear dismay.