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Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
We came from all over the land
To show our hand and our signs
And resign from the silent crowd
That allowed this filth to control
And dig a hole in our Constitution;
To point out the fools that choose
To use our schools to abuse us
With their taking of bribes and
Payoffs for scribes in the media.

It was an amazing time to climb
Off our sofas and it was thrilling
Even with the wind chilling us.
But these kids, friends and families
Had grown tired of homilies by crooks
Justifying what they took from us
And throwing us all under the bus
In the name of patriotism and then
Giving back in nepotism to their
Friend's foreign bank accounts,
As well as a hefty kickback account,
Which amounts to the same thing.

The nation admired the children
They had sired should move to fight
For what is right when leaders
Turned out to be followers of wrong.
They lifted voice in songs and chants
And shocked the pants off mediocrity
By standing in all solemnity to face
The worst of our race who ruled
That murdering children ranked less
Than the mess our country has begun
By protecting horrible guns more
And giving children in school
A much lower overall score.

Not often enough, we wake up
As a country, and stand up
To picket, protest and crowd
Around the symbols we have found
That mean we are being swindled
And the innocent are being starved
And carved up and killed daily
So our leaders can go gaily on
With business as usual; a kind of
Tone-deaf musical for the twisted.

But we stopped liking the lyrics
And cynics doing the singing
With bad voices too loudly,
So, we proudly declare a mistrial
That has gone on too long a while
And needs to quit. Those in power
Need to sit down at home
And leave the real people alone
And we at home need to step in
And begin this freedom and equality
Promise and fulfillment for real
And apply it to the common weal.
K Balachandran Feb 2016
She finds every single day
invariably wears, to her horror
a night as a gown all over it
made of deceit and mayhem
of many kinds deftly woven as one.

Makes it an imperative
for her to choose from
nights of two kinds,
quite unsettling, it has become
as the world progresses,
is this truly any step forward?

If she  wants to count sheep
desperately in the hope of managing
forty winks, that too has become
a luxury, she can't easily afford.

She has the other prospects
staring on her face, not a welcome thought;
reject the challenge of  nights altogether
lie gathering dust in a corner for ever.

Or resurrect, herself mustering the
last of hidden power, turn a whirlwind,
rage against the hypocrisy
of the sleep deprived world,
rotting every moment of it's life
yet pretends nothing is there
to worry,remains uncaring about
it's downward spiral, gathering
momentum, turning nights in to days
and forcefully making days wear darkness
This malady, is not just a tempest of sleep's sleeplessness of cruelty , insanity and a chain of such pests..
Kathleen Dec 2015
Your bullets mean nothing but void.
Void where matter should be.
Absence where substance once was.
Darkness where light should be housed.
All of this for nothing.
Love Mar 2015
People had a lot to say about us,
we didn't care,
It was each other we desired.

A sinful kiss later,
we both knew it can't be.

— The End —