The Hand That Rocks the Cradle
Revisited the 60's in a dream this past eve....
I saw Bobby fall and lying in a puddle of his own blood
Martin and John followed by processions of broken; tears and cries
Bodies with motionless eyes, frozen amid trenches of mud
Riots of revolution and defiance although, somehow tainted
Within these delusions; peace, equality, love and drugs....
Norma Jean Baker, aka, Marilyn Monroe with, a bottle of pills by her side
Dorothy Gale, finally making it over her distant rainbow ~
Jimmy, Janice and James, walking through their eternal youthful doors
Malcolm exiting and the Zodiac entering but, humankind did land upon the moon....
A Supreme Court forever changing the face of this place with, breathing documents!?
I awoke from this scene which held many other things
Some good; but most, hidden behind the lies entwined within, democracy
What we call such yet realizing as I reflected upon this dream and life
It is so much more in line with, that of a monarchy....
The crumbs which are scattered by the hands that try to rule this world
Yet even they do not know the shadows that, rule they themselves?!
Gazing about and around at the endless in broken; lives lost to be scattered
Upon the wakes of this relentless campaigns, poisoned and cruel carnage
Hearts bleeding with spirits of wings torn to crash; taken and for the taking....
Looking at Bobby lying in a puddle of blood clutching desperately unto a rosary
Within his last moments of life amid this dust afore his sight, as he stood now
At Heavens Gate; these hands that led to his fate
Whether it be called democracy, monarchy or anything else!?
Beholding them all and knowing beyound this dream, the extremely twisted
Unseen; bent upon and I ask myself now, who shall stand as
I turn my eyes towards heaven to ponder this saddened truth in a world I find....
****************************************************************
....“This, The Hand That Rocks The Cradle?!” ~
Copyright © John Rhinem | Year Posted 2012
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