PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Old world politics reversing hands of time,

A backward destination to when domination was not lost,

With limited information, tick the correct box,

Nothing is as dangerous as an opinion formed in asphalt.

Hammer away at the subconscious,

Let sleeping morals die,

Create a panic to silence an uprising;

Using children as a shield for ignorant lies,

Dial a fear to deliver a repression,

What is cornered can only hit back harder,

We are not passive; we are the temperate of men.

A war in the background of digital distractions,

The winner is the oppressor, the hand cast in gold,

Pay for the bail, then no crime was committed,

Never a rich man wore a noose like an heirloom:

Wicked indulgence passes the priest’s hand with silver.

A confession makes an obscenity a right,

Mechanical error in the beating of a heart;

Strangers spit poison, are we on our own, or an occult?

The fence divides, but it offers protection,

To sit, and ponder; to blame, and claim,

No right to an opinion, the guilty remain.

The illusion of the loyalty of slavery,

Truth is an adversary dressed in cheap clothing.

The age of enlightenment became overshadowed by reality TV,

Creation began to burrow, the death of self-control.

No love lost on splintered shores,

Ignorance buries its head,

While creation dies, greed and hunger prosper:

Futile are the ones who never believed to dream.