Tick, Tick, Tick
Soft and complacent
our youth in denial
What evil disguises
the past has on file
Wishing and hoping
a smokescreen at best
Masking our fear
while fouling our nest
The seeds of our history
whose names have been damned
And mocked until cancelled
our heritage banned
In near distant cauldrons
a pot stirs and boils
Awaiting our downfall
—and all we’ve despoiled
(The New Room: November, 2023)
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