Waiting For the Truth
The little man sits, and waits for the truth,
but all we get is gibberish in business suits.
Patient, we all have been, no, not al all,
but, who do we, the little man call?
Numbers that get us no where,
and letters thrown in the trash way up there,
only brings frustration, but who cares.
Hoping a miracle will happen overnight, well
don't hold your breath, it ain't looking too bright.
Innocence is gone, and now greed moves in,
guard your family, we have started to descend.
The removal of prayer so cleverly done,
another victory old satan has won.
Our forefathers were smart, but they are gone,
now all that's left, is this strange place we call home.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment