Political reruns

by thirdeyerhein

Blocks of concrete crack from the veins

Strips of pavement blister in the sun

A million wounds shake from the pains

the militia, the army, the marines all man their guns

they stand tall and march like great Danes

they wear their colors with pride like catholic nuns

they tear through flesh and blood falls like spring rains

but who will end this madness who will run out of funds

in this world of money and political gains

shipping weapons overseas by the tons

capturing the enemy even our own, locking them in chains

whoever looks upon from above please discipline your daughters and sons

we’ve been brainwashed for so long they’re not even our brains

strapped to a chair and forced to watch their political reruns

it won’t be long until we’re leveled into the great plains