Politicians, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
In bright daylight they huddle in darkness
Fearing their death by the riotous mob
Who attempting their freedoms to suppress.
Lunacy of the mob think it’s their job.
Open dialogue not again to be.
Fear is their weapon for conformity,
Destruction to all who may disagree.
Gone is any want of civility.
The majority willing to cower.
No longer is there any patriot
To hearken a unifying answer.
Democracy, mobs no longer covet.
Again this raucous mob hangs Nathan Hale
While Benedict Arnold they proudly hail.