An ideology in stockades-
A nation under blockade.
Screaming about culture wars
While blood runs like sewers.
Scream at the ceiling
if you think it helps.
Sometimes quiet retreat
Is the best medicine.
Flog the horse till it bleeds
Maybe it will run faster.
I think the road is ending,
But I might be dreaming.
Such tearful rememberance
Follows a hard goodbye.
A .44 shot to the temple
Ends the pain quickly.
Then do eyes snap open
and we wake from a dream.
This may not be our fate,
Or that is how it seems.
Answer hiding in plain sight
Brushed over in simplicity.
On your knees before God,
And you might avoid calamity.
{CK}
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