It is the holy time.
A political party is seeking a crime
They themselves are guilty of—
And love is used against love.
So spoke the evil right wing fanatic!
I loved. But I was in a panic!
The other party said.
Poetry is argument.
At least that isn’t dead.
Here is the rhyme—
Which indicates the crime.
But here is what you feared: a simple, cold breeze
Has come. The pledge of allegiance
Has become a strip tease. You are calm and proud
No more. Once, you were cunning and correct and loud.
You, too, now find,
You are hated, even for your most beautiful beliefs,
And those who hate you are deliberately blind.
The majority you strove
To join couldn’t love
The minority—mocked, and left behind;
You were, but you accuse them, of being unkind.
You had safety and numbers, but then you wouldn’t give—
Though mostly a child,
And the world was wild—
You merely enjoyed, and meanwhile others couldn’t live
Because you fed on what they couldn’t have—
And now they tell you, “you are bad.”
But you are not bad, they
Would have been as you; what they say
Is deliberately blind.
No one wants to seem unkind—
But they—like you—are;
Because death is, and this star
Is finally far too far.