If you prophecy the end of kings you are wrong.
Write no epitaphs, dig no graves, taste no grief.

The new czar, a rough and worldly killer firmly fixed
this very day stirs the cauldron of war to reset empire

Still, foxly friends of tyranny, who stab at weak democracy
praise the czar's autocracy, and mock free speech with treachery.

As modern judases, riding limitless swells of fortune, tease simple mobs
our old republic stagers and fades, mortally wounded by hypocrisy.

Perhaps, someday, freedom’s autopsy will show what transpired,
but if you prophecy the end of kings you are wrong.

Watch what the pedant swine does- whose gargling
fills the Scabbards. Those near men who nestle in
with peers and well heeled cogs, Laced and misshapen
by all the verdant narcotics of the Time. For all to see
they'll Stand and declaim clotted regurgitations of
promises already Framed.

Their attire in constant lave, and limbs Strung up by
the unnatural- Their throats lined thickly to the teeth,
of figments and cruor, and the fiction they spiel forever
a plush Decor.

For, you see, all but few buy what they Sell- counterfeit
talk stocked pretentiously upon shelves. And all speedily
Corked fit in viewing eyes, plugged into those who've not
the time to Reason why? Bought in bulk- a Politician plying
his delicately chosen words.

As a young man lies diying, fallen victm of mindless gangs
One more stagers the night layden with spirt of an acholic kind
As one more small child has lost thier trust to a sickned guardian
One more has ceased their life from mankind’s ability to starve

As one more women is forced to submit love she has not offered
One more is lost to the domestic hell of enraged beasts, called man
As one brave soldier falls to the sands giving his all for our freedom
One more crawls home to be forgotten, his disabilities seen as weak

I think to my self what a wonderful world

I hear nothing,
I see everything,
and yet,
all I feel is static.

Nothing,
absolutely nothing, makes sense
or has the same meaning
from one moment to another.

Fear,
Anger,
Mock,
is around every corner it seems.

Confusion,
Greif,
Ache,
eventually numbness sets in
and the blood begins to seep.

People fill the room and
soon your eyes feel heavy.
The voices stop,
all but one.
The declaration has been made.
The label has been made.
Sedative begins to set and your body goes still.

The feeling still there,
every molecule every atom.
every slice and every stitch.

The label placed,
and perfectly stitched,
Aftercare is key love, it must not rip.

The nurse stagers over and hands you a mirror.
The restraints released.
Perfectly, permanently placed,
The label you will forever see.

If my feet didn't fail, I'd walk for days on end,
To the place far away, to the place I've never been.
Stay closed up all your life, blind to the normal eye,
Until no one can truly see you, does your mind really die.

Surrounded by full caskets of things you should have said,
The words pounding in your mouth, never to be read.
Screaming out to anything, kidnapped by regret,
What should have come out smoothly, stagers out with threat.

Hollow ears are thirsty for what they thought you'd say,
Questions still unanswered, their ends are left to fray.
But when the truth in the lie leads you to this place,
The yells you were searching for are gone, done, no trace.

I'll craft you poems
every chance
that I get,
strip your soul bare,
entwine it's
essence — adorn you with words.

In novels, women ruled,
queens in pages revealed.
Girls grew in ink's embrace,
forever kids — time concealed.

your eyes delve, pages
turned, tales unfurl;
novels well-read.

drunk on love, mind
stagers — your tale unfolds.
I'll pen your chapters,
paint your
canvas — stories untold.

as you read, worlds
entangle — your narrative
defined,
the lines, your story shall
wrangle.

In ink's embrace,
forever you'll be, a character
in poems,
written by me.

To a rivers edge
stagers a bear stops to smell
the air and then smiles              

                                   Kelly McManus