Who’d have thought that our nation would ever go postal,
Past sin perhaps brings our demise?
From our ancestral guilt at the treatment of Indians,
(Enrichment by gun’s artifice)
To enslavement of innocents branded by color?
Misanthropic beginnings forged seeking our freedom
Duplicity seen as our Right
We then took on the armor of people we hated
Our fear and greed clouding our sight
Could our brokenness truly be hope for all nations?
Undeserving we worship stale Gods and past glory,
New Testament’s cautions, lost art,
As now saving yourself is the Trump-phatic message
God’s grace has no place in our heart,
Self promotion the sand that his lunacy stands on.
Kings of science denial and nails in Christ’s coffin
Christ buried is their promised land,
And the sharing of wealth is a communist mantra
To love is a foolish demand.
A fool’s take on the Bible is what they call Gospel.
For the mighty will fall and their pride turn to ashes
God grant that Trump’s time will come soon
As his follower’s goosestep their way off life’s pathway
This piper just plays a sad tune!
But would taxpayer sponsored elections improve things?
December 24, 2015
Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2015
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment