August 1, 2016

Election Season

Every day that passes is
like walking through
a trough of quick dry cement.
At first we think we can
pass through it at first
we think we can really
do it as each step we
try to take with it envisioning
the best that we can
make with it but the further
we plod we are more and
more stuck in it seeing
the promise dry up we instead
say the fuck with it
we see dread
our dreams
hanging by a thread
against an overwhelming
current we desperately
tread trying to serve
our children daily bread enabling
their appetite for achievement to
be fed hoping light will
cast upon the tunnel ahead
to end our disappointment in what
the politician said that the
good is on the way and the
bad can now be shed while the
will of the voters was left for
dead on the congressional floor in
a puddle of red striving stronger for
recovery we have sweat we
have bled we must keep what is
good and right from nodding
off to bed.

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