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Turning In Their Graves
I walked past the cemetery the other day, Those who fought for a right to vote, Were turning in their graves. I could hear them moaning in their eternal sleep, Use it or lose it, use it or lose it was their universal call, Though not scared, I shuddered from top to toe, At the horror of all horrors, As I contemplated a world with voices long silenced By the winds of apathy and contempt for those, Past and present Champions of the democratic cause. A world where democracy was off line. And yet the people were all oblivious to the fact, As they took their daily happy pill Once the shuddering had stopped, I stood respectfully and said a silent prayer, With no words adequate enough to express my gratitude To all those beautiful souls, Who deserve to rest in peace. I don't know what the caretaker will make of the photocopies of my, Voting papers on their graves, But frankly I don't care. As if they are ever called forth to reawaken our fading memories I pity all the non-voters.
Copyright © 2024 David Smith. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs