-- Put to the Test --
Questions arise if democracy is now put to rest;
Perhaps we ourselves are being put to the test.
Words no longer have the force of their meaning;
Instead they stride and strut like peacocks preening.
Futile arguments but cotton candy from sugar spun,
Statements and claims from dirty washrags wrung.
Truths now called out for being a kind of false hoax;
Falsehoods raise to levels of truth, indeed a true hoax.
Still, political cronies end up finding themselves in jail,
Experiencing the punishment that lies beyond the pale.
The supreme head of state acted upon the evil he saw;
When all the while he considered himself above the law.
Only we the people can the soul of the nation preserve;
May the soul of the people reflect all they rightly deserve.
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With every public appearance. With every Twitter. With every pronouncement, the craftily elected president, not of the people, reveals himself for what he really is. We don't need a PT Barnum any more to make us feel good. What we need is leadership. The media is now in the hands of the people. Not in the hands of political pundits and hacks..
That's what your poem tells me. I hope I haven't overdone it.
Ron
budd
Rebecca