Just dropped back
into the government hack.
Refusing to stay,  come to find,
in the forefront of the mind.
Now and then, as fate would have it,
appears a fluffy bunny rabbit
where but a brief moment ago
stood a Conan warrior bro.

Heavy dudes say,
"Focus night and day.
Mister Man is on your case.
Don't relax your resting face."
No matter how much I type,
what appears?  Digital tripe.
Shouldn't life be more
than something easy to ignore?

Democracy
doesn't count, you see.
You knew the entire time;
no dough, no show, no rhyme.
No substance behind the me
spying on nothing to see.
Go ahead, track my strokes.
That’s the punchline of the joke.

Punchline

You sold us out,
you and all your friends.
Your buddies who
all agree with you,
and you sold us out.
To the ones who
wanted to own us,
now they do,
because of you
and everyone like you.

You sold out your children,
and your grandchildren,
and their children.
And, they’ll remember you for it.
Oh, yes they will.
Facts kill the lie.
Now, look at you.
Acting like it isn’t there.
Acting like it wasn’t you.
But, it was.  And you know
you sold us out.

Sold Out

I knew this person
who was the world to me.
It wasn’t her fault
who she happened to be.
When she passed,
which she had to do,
the loss just filled my heart.
This heavy load
of her no longer here
clouded my road.

Someone else just
happened to wander in.
He lifted darkness
in every room he was in.
He felt you growing
making you feel it, too.
Blindness had to flee.
Kindness found a new home.
But, our ways diverged.
He’s way past gone.

Gathering threads
we weave into the cloth
sewn into garments,
clothing ourselves within,
becoming the raiment
that becomes us.
Precious they are
though we never see
until time passes
revealing you and me.

Seemster