Slide of Hand

Democracy came,
Democracy left,
Marking the material meek for death,
The one to fallow pumping hot lead in their chest,
Offering hope,
Saying "we can be the best!"
Now they work with no rest,
Strings are pulled on a puppet press,
Subconsciously suppressing the wide eyed mass,
Work with no rest!
A slave generation all focused on how to dress,
The gunman in position,
No noise the shots suppress,
Survival available with a billion dollar vest,
Freedom was stressed,
Liberty regressed,
Blood in blood out the presidents new inaugural address.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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