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To the Mockers of Democracy
*I admit we're putting on quite a carnival for the world to see. putting our worst clown foot forward. Fighting one another over rolls of toilet paper scorching our foundation juggling our humanity. Because of an exception to the rule-a tin star clown looting the gold from our souls. Putting one rotting apple on the window sill, for all the world to see... We're putting on quite a show aren't we. Now you mockers come out of the woodwork to kick us when we're down. Lay our stars six feet underground. but when we the people come back together. And we will When we put our clown feet back in the closet. When the smoke clears and the stars re-emerge. The mockers will come knocking on our door to get in. Again. Demanding things from the one they mocked. Things they could never dream of in their soiled nests. Hey mockers, even at our worst we still remain the shining model for the world. The torch to light your dark caves, to show you the way out... Democracy is a constant debriding-a molting of the soul. we are in a painful molting phase right now. We're grounded. Temporarily. While weighted feathers are replaced with the light. but this battered bird will come out stronger. Fly higher than ever before. Ask old king George or Adolph or Bin laden. Mockers like you will retreat into holes still yapping when your visas run low. and your sandcastle homes smolder. Under blood banners that will never let you speak...or even breathe*
Copyright © 2024 Anthony Biaanco. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs