somehow, we fell asleep at the wheel we call
democracy, taken for granted, ripe to be taken
and in the cover and stealth of entitled blindness,
gone in the night, pridefulness forsaken
worthless our habit to look to the bright side
we closed our minds as easily as fingers,
it did not take long before we used them to cover
our eyes and ears, hide from the woe-bringers
everything everywhere was pure chaos
no respite, as if a pandora’s box opened;
and out spilled the bottled up ire of a nation
a beautiful experiment left fractured and broken
spiraled down in a morass of misery,
to lament our predicament, a slippery slope;
inertia mixed with a gloomy perspective
is the one thing that smothers all hope
(yet here we are today, ready and riled, primed
to defeat the painted clown where he stands;
The blinders lifted and naked the emperor)
nobody, not even a child, has such small hands
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