Sunday, December 4, 2022

QUARANTINE LIFE: POETRY PROMPT ---POLITICS


One can only speculate 

What goes on behind closed doors

A stench, however, tells for sure

Where an old dog has been before

Somebody has to clean it up

Somebody who’s used to the stuff

Someone who’s waited long enough

Won’t see it as a chore


Weary, one must be to surmise

Being a consolation prize;

A last resort, inspires

Any trace of jealousy

No one’s wishing themselves to be

The latest flunky casualty

In fancy shoes, so steeped in muck and mire


The effort to sustain pretense

Flies in the face of common sense

And minimal intelligence

Necessary for hire

Some have invested everything 

In mud, constantly wallowing

When the cameras roll, they sing

Allegiance to a liar


Congratulate?

No. Perhaps not.

Pity is the proper lot.

It’s been a mess before

A selfish dog on its last legs

In desperation, barks and begs

To burden one with promises

To stray, and dig no more


Feel sympathy?

Perfect emotion.

So many spent years in devotion

To those who used, and hurt

While the discerning sought clean spaces

Precious time squandered, and wasted

The gullible, still in their places

Think, “Finally! Our turn!”

Finally, the secret’s out

That many always knew about

And now, it’s been confirmed 


The pretending has now commenced 

From bones still buried near the fence

Maybe they saw the light

All of their effort didn’t work

Neither pay, nor thanks, nor perk

Nor scrambling day and night

To prove devotion; loyalty

Erased the stark reality

Of what they were destined to be

Dispensable? 

That’s right.


What joy to finally be rewarded

The unsuspecting, fought and thwarted

An old dog’s what they always wanted

They have the prize they earned

But will they truly lift their heads?

Will resignation, doubt, and dread

Loom over happiness, instead

When will they ever learn?


Well wishes flow for sheer dysfunction 

History provides the unction

To shake sense, warn, and cry

But when determination’s strong

To paper over years of wrong

Reasoning’s crucified


Perhaps some sentiments are real

But, for those who know the deal

There’s gossip; whispering

And fake smiles, and perhaps the hope

That impropriety will go

And the odor lingering

Still, righteous ones know they weren’t wrong

Something’s been stinking all along

Dogs always think they’re safe

To drag out what they’ve buried deep

Hoping they’ll now eat it in peace

But what of the thing now revealed—

What does it have to say?


Pitiful thing to be abused

To be mishandled, and misused

To see loss as a win

To think that servitude paid off

Or new tricks will delight old dogs

It will be what it always was

With an expected end




#politics




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