Promise Fatigue

By John Herlihy

Hey, I am not in their league,

I can’t match their every deed.

Oh sure, I also want to succeed,

But more often than not, I bleed.

The talking heads, how they breed,

So many promises the public to feed.

Keep the masses happy is their creed,

And the public? They simply concede.

Does it have anything to do with greed?

In the garden of promises, they weed.

Separate the roughage from the reed,

A promise to them like a noble steed.

Just words on a sacred scroll to read,

But to promise fatigue we never agreed.