Mirth has died and joy has vanished. Gone without a trace.
No laughter heard around us. A smile on no face.
So many fishy happenings. So many baited hooks
as all the crooked happenings once reserved for books
invade our lovely simple lives, making them complex.
First rated by our English, then rated by our sex,
we kowtow to the bullies and hide away our shame,
saying all the others are the ones to blame.
This man sat in front of me in the iPhone class I took yesterday. He’s riding a Harley and that’s a pistol tucked into his belt and some sort of rifle in his hand.The presidential crest on his bike and chest. Words fail me.