An elegant hangs
From a noose suspended
By the Flag
Donkeys cry.... not one makes a sound
They just turn and walk all way
In shame

The death of a country
The rise of politicians
The cleansing
Needs a voice

Newspapers, News anchors
They say “ Democracy Dies in Darkness”
That the constitution is “ sacred”
The impressionable public needs a leader
But no one truly steps up
It’s a game of cockteasing and menstral cycling
Every four years
When Squelers come out of