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Mocking the Dead
Mocking the dead, is that a thing?
How many ways can one be disrespecting?
Laws that cause offenders to be free?
Rape kits that exist only to be not breached.
Little lies and big divides of right and wrong genocide.
Our forefathers could not ever predict
We would be as disrespectful as this.
Ancestors bones surely roll like river
As the wicked become powerful while weak lips quiver
Fowl language and worse ethics morale and actions
Political powers that endorse for private satisfaction.
Mocking the dead what about the little kids
Who inherit the earth in the shape of it
We enjoyed youth clean air and water
And dirty it up for son and daughter.
Looking back only with limited views
Erasing the truth of ill will and abuse
A country started by taking from the natives
Blended into a melting pot of many races
Mocking the dead playing music head like fiddler
Warming the red bed of fire for Hitler
Are we so pompous we can never admit faults
Until it is too late and we too are lost?
Written 9/21/23 For Mocking The Dead Contest
Sponsor Silent One
Copyright ©
Karen Jones
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