by on April 12, 2020 :: 0 comments

She looks out through the windowpane
Sea and sky have blended to one
Yachts moored with tall moaning masts
In the harbor of discontent
Reflect the feel of the nation
And the blasting inertia rains on limbs
As the wealthy prepare to sail.

The sunrise is perfect delight
Sunset is a fire raging mad
Class war is hidden in purple rage
As nations pretend to vote again.

editors note:

Some clamor to be heard. What they miss are ears to listen. – mh clay

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