The Junta
Once, a very long time ago
You truly understood our woes
Your youthful energy burned bright
Promising to deliver us from limbo
Indeed, a welcome beacon in the dark
Maybe it was the lesser evil
For surely, the corrupt regime had to go
In crises like those, sacrifices had to be made
So we dutifully turned our backs
And let the blood flow
For a while, you were the ideal leader
Our dear and beloved liberator
The butchery forgotten, tranquility returned
Success for all was certain
The fruits of democracy as we know it
It was all too good to be true
Murmurs of discontent flared
Pertinent questions arose, zero answers came forth
The leader had lost sight of the noble goal
Democracy was a mere mirage
Injustice of all forms is meted out generously
Murder and gore freely roam the streets
Empty pockets stare at us mockingly
Tears stain our cheeks
We call to the government in vain
So here we stand once again
Swearing that the correct regime must go
More than ready to sacrifice
But the blood.Oh God!the blood
Let blood not flow...
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.
