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Give me your poor
and downtrodden,
‘Cause they don’t ever vote.
Cast your ballots in late fall or winter.
For those without a coat,
Set up precincts too far to walk,
For those without a car,
And ask for ID at the door,
For those without a card,
Make healthcare an issue,
For those who are too sick,
And fool the elderly,
Into making the wrong pick,
And should the race for power,
Ever become too short,
They reset the districts,
Or settle it in a court,
Voting in America,
Is now a big joke,
As poor and middle class,
Fall for the hoax,
Now wouldn’t it be great,
If all of us counted,
If we all had a voice,
Which wasn’t discounted,
Torn is the American dream,
In our land of liberty,
We need a new vision,
We need a new reality,
One where we all count,
Where we all are heard,
Why can’t we wise up,
And why can’t we learn,
Too long have we been idle,
Its time we spoke up,
The rich are our rivals,
Its time we woke up,
So when they cast ballots,
And you’re nowhere to be found,
Watch as the powers trample,
Your rights into the ground,
If the lives of your children,
Can’t make you react,
Then you can watch them die,
And come home in a sack,
If the lives of your parents,
Can’t bring you to action,
Then watch them eat dogfood,
Or other poor rations,
If the lives of the poor,
Don’t interest you,
Then watch the crime lords,
Grow in power too,
If the lives of your family,
Can’t make you vote,
Then watch them get poorer,
In next Tuesday’s hoax.
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Poetic License Suspended
- by My Gull Wheels On
A string of poetic tales, about my life, my love
and, my Lord...
Observations in scales, of mortal plight, once
we chance, accord...
Imagination pales, and yet just might, share a
glance, of more...
Propping powerful sails, from my short life,
happenstance, galore!
Buy the book...
Click Here
Get it on Kindle...
Click Here
Poetry Book on CD -
Click Here
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- My
Gull Wheels On
a.k.a.
Michael Wilson |
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