by Tim Chiu
A political poem - a rhyming poem.
|A scourge, the latest sacrifice.
Simple fate, the cruelest vice.
Suffering through this script of hope,
How extreme to have to cope.
The toughest pill to have to swallow,
When will gravesites cease to follow?
A more substantial, saddening peer;
Praying for a better year...
The profit from this sense of duty,
Pain bestowed, then gorgeous booty.
Might expose a buried chest.
Turn, and then the very best!
Several toes shall skim the surface,
Waves a-crashing, voicing purpose.
The volume witnessed, not as great.
Time to scrimmage, clean the slate.