Road to nowhere

They walked slowly away along the road

Faded clothes stared at the floor

A bond of togetherness

Brought them tightly together

As they paused to eat nothing

 

famine

In the soft air of drought

The wind of change was wanted

Grey is the sky they sought

Too late for many

 

 

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Come the reaper

Reapers

Entangled in a spider’s web

Frozen by layers of lies

We watch the fire sale

Aghast that the wisdom of age

Allowing it to happen and progress

No repercussion

No real discussion

No statesmen in power

Just the reapers; reaping

 

Parched

Parched as I am I do not think
I’ll take a drink from you.
I’m not a fan of your saintly ways,
how the gays cause hurricanes,
in your eye,
that piercing optical orb,
able to see a written God
who happens to suit your convenient lie.

I’ll not shake your dirty hand
to rule a land I do not own.
I’ll take the huge and evil risk
to frisk and frolic in the grass
as I might,
with genders equal of each kind,
simple partnerships with a loving sign,
and work instead for what is right.

Parched as I am I do not think
I’ll take a drink with you in sight.

Puppets

Empty headed fools
perform their routine
with no original thought

Do not challenge them,
for Puppets,
controlled by the
invisible hand of power,
spew toxic waste
from gaping mouths

Blinded by narrow minds
and ignorance,
they see only one vision
for the world

There is no place
for the sick, the wounded
and the needy

Puppets,
empty of mind
and of heart