Politics And Other Forms Of Suicide

The body politic is blathering heads

arrogant bastards high on meds

conciliation is the watchword spread

while evangelicals screw in bed

 

There is no middle, there is no riddle

to see truth's light

for right is right despite all might

be true to your heart, be true to your soul

 

we wander lost in this sad state

wondering man's eventual fate

clinging, clutching our winsome mate

until her face reflects our hate

This poem is about: 
My country

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