305/365

The depression of defeat settles on the country when solutions we don’t see for the problems it’s facing.

This poem explores the situation.

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It’s quiet
Quiet and we hate it
Feel long since defeated
Hope faded
Screaming just to be heard
To assure we’ve not yet drowned
To get the last word
But the ship is going down
Shit
It’s anger
Fury from knowing the race was rigged
Lost before it began
Built for someone else’s victory

It was planned
For us to fight each other
Distracted by the two puppets that have us tangled in their strings
Treating us like handy things to mangle and show off like bling
The house
The screen
Narratives design to control all things
Woven, fleshed out
Broken, we all shout
Slowly we stand down
Conspiracy wars that aren’t happening
To keep us from secret wars that are
It ain’t happening that far
But without a way to see our neighbors on any given day
All we have is what the chose to say

There is no winning a game of chess as a pawn
Against an army of queens
Not so long as the rules stay the same
At this rate nothing will change
This phase is lame
We’re much too tame
They rile up the cage and low we lay
That ain’t how it’s supposed to go or be
And we know
Reap what we sow
But how long must this show hold this flow
Before we boycott the goddamn system
Cancel this reality
Replace it with the way it ought to be
To please the majority
Release the cures for these diseases
Refer to the people’s condition
Of sitting complacent
Blaming the nation
Without ever standing
Not even hesitating to help the cause
Complaining, “it hasn’t taken off”
Battles lost and the best we have is to log off
Go home and jerk off
Hope the next day it’s all resolved
We’re not counting on it at all
We already think we’ve lost