The Main Event

Poem By Lawrence S. Pertillar

Heads once with brains in them to use,
Have collectively lost...
Minds decisive.
And thoughts to think as if chopped off.
With this to do,
Under cloudless skies in clear view.

Laws abused.
Committed and done.
To leave no one confused.
By those in positions of leadership.
Creating to make daily,
Their own constituents.
Nearly publicly announcing,
They have been chosen to be made fools.

Corruption runs rampant,
Inside and out...
The most prestigious governing house.
And told lies to deceive,
Even those dwelling in caves...
Have no need to be told.
To know this not to question,
Doubts to toss about.

Getting rid of one pest.
Known to destroy everything that pest gets.
Remains in the heads,
Of those claiming to be fed up.
Although not enough,
To prevent this pest...
Less time to find,
A way to create more mess...
That will take decades to remove,
The stench left behind...
Tolerated to accept.
As if addicted and afraid,
No one else they can pick and choose...
Could be more entertaining.
Or amuse them with a wish to want,
Such mental abuse too humiliating to refuse!

'This B.S. has become epidemic.'

Especially when known,
How it was done.
And exactly who did it!

'It's crazy.'

Which part of it?
The act?
Or those who watch it to allow?
The ones awaiting,
For someone to verify...
What they should do next,
With steps to take to rid the pest.
And yet...
They are the ones,
Authorized to do what has to be done.

'This B.S. can not be that addicting.'

Have you ever been to a circus.
When the master of ceremonies,
Is the main event?
More the show than other 'distractions'?

'No. I can't say I have.'

Welcome to the circus.
There's a first time to witness,
The incredible to no longer disbelieve.

Comments about The Main Event

There is no comment submitted by members.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of PERTILLAR

$10 A Gallon?

$10 a gallon?
For what?

'Does that really matter now?

$5 A Barrel Of What?

Now sold at what?
Five dollars a barrel?
This is an immediate sign,

' The Freed Of Getting Frisked At Your Risk Foundation '

We are pleased you have chosen to run again,
For public office.
There are a 'few' who donated to your campaign efforts,

(the) Fate Of Fatal Lovers

Fated to be in a togetherness...
No one comprehends but them.

The fate of fatal lovers,

(the) Budding Grace Of April

It's the 28th of April,
And the 29th comes soon.
The 27th was a Friday that passed,
In a year that speeds...

(the) Bigger Lie

Which liars deny,
They did or did not tell...
The bigger lie.
Or acknowledge any used,