Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar
Poetic proclamations versed.
Have become more prophetic depictions,
Of times lived few poets can ignore.
Some wish to delude,
The writings of poets...
Are more religiously and politically infused.
These days are less rosy.
And the bluest of violets...
Survive under polluted skies.
Regardless of the attempts made,
To hold onto ideals...
Withering before our fantasized eyes.
Corruption, deception and lies told,
With no end to them.
Is more today a living reality.
That the innocence of children,
Seem to be encouraged to commit sins.
And allowed by parents giving permission.
Now sit in positions of leadership.
And everyday on an hourly basis,
Someone of wealth and obtained prestige...
Has been exposed to have lived,
A life of the worst despicable deeds.
Above and beyond to describe this as sleaze.
And yet those who write,
What is revealed to be true...
Without hint of cynicism or dishonesty.
Are claimed not to be true poets.
When compared to those,
Living decades and many centuries ago.
Yet few will admit,
Their intentions to censor...
A reality these days difficult to dismiss.
Will not change the existence,
Of whatever it is to pretend...
Their lives have not been affected by it.
Or defend values declining to diminish.