The reluctance to act on truth breaks the spirit;
rage from doubt and fear drives us far, far apart.
Believe all pain from the Rose is but a trial:
know she does scorn and disdain her glib denial!
The status quo above all admires its own huge ass;
it regards its own anusial speech as first class!
Talk and talk and talk will someday bring you to god:
the chairman’s speech will drag you to the land of nod.
Our brother lies dead and his murder is ignored:
talk of embezzlement makes the trustees so bored.
The rose petals drop one by one in bloody red;
so much talk, yet so much more has been left unsaid!
Darvish cries out, where has our bright courage gone?
the real men have departed- we are so alone.
Bill, this struck me as a nicely nuanced and subtle poem. Thanks for sharing it on video. I am thinking that roles such as chairman, trustees, the murdered brother could be populated with a number of different possible historical characters or some persons closer to home or just left blank. John I-Y