Earplug

Earplug

If the eyes can find sleep
when the left hand in battle
hacks to bits, a right at peace

Indulges our parched earth
that can never drink her fill
of human blood libations

And the town crier never cries
at his gong's discordant tunes
with the plight of the people

Then, power is only an ear plug
wealth, a virtual reality camera
and the people, jesters at court.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace