1722
There is a strange feeling in the air. The country we once knew just isn’t there. Corruption is now king. Lies mean all and truth, dignity and honour don’t mean a damn thing.
People will suffer and they will starve.
2022 may as well be 1722 because all the progress is being flushed away. Deceit and greed control today.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
