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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I had a dream — different ... dark ... obscure Mine’s wasn’t like Martin Luther King, it was different So very dark to the core In my dream I saw his dream masquerading as a fantasy There were separate, reality TV camps competing: radical, bellicose talk of Black Lives Matter, and virtual, cyber walk of alt-right hate chatter There were bone chilling sounds of nuclear voices ... uranium saber rattlers, and automatic gunfire arterial blood splatters And in my dream there was an iron-copper, ruddy king’s ring coveted by a smiling Joker, batty as a Mad Hatter, with an itchy trigger finger And this nightmare of a dream snoring-ly lingered My sleeping eyes saw a lot of marching in the night, clashes of angry protest signs and torches burning bright Different colored children wasn’t walking hand in hand, hugging and kissing in harmonious unity No, they were casting stones at each other, hurling heavy curses and jagged profanity In my dream, that dream that Martin Luther King seen was a fake news rerun cancelled program broadcasting And the interrupted voice of a moderator said: a gunshot to the head killed Martin Luther King dead Then there was a funeral for his dream, with a sad procession of Obama supporters crying I saw horror of horrors ... dark clouds ominously began to evilly congregate, and the fair trade winds wasn’t waving the flag Fear merchants were selling whiskey bottles of hate, and commemorative red, white and blue gag order rags For some it was a festive atmosphere, a grand occasion to sample a taste of times past Blowing lead pellet trumpet sounds of a shotgun baby shower blast, Birth of a Nation music was merrily playing Vaders celebrating the death of a starcrossed king’s dream, opened my eyes to a rude Gentile awakening — slumber promises begets delayed praying I had a dream — so different ... That of a pauper, not of a king!
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