a common world view only their power matters women are chattel and only they can make rules which we should blindly follow it’s the grim reaper’s life view
from franco
to
trump
the stench
of
death
cannot be hid
it
flows
from
history’s bins
of
oppression
and
from
unmarked graves
now
covered
with grassy lies
and
halfhearted
apologies
for
atrocities
committed
now
undeniable
yet
politicos
strive
once again
to
rewrite lines
of
truth
with lines
of
deceptions
and
subterfuge
saying
to move on
we
must
forget
what happened
to heal the nation
said
as they
brush off
dried blood
from
their sleeves
and
hands
the blood
of
complicity
those eyes you will not stare into for fear they’ll see that your strength is nothing but weakness will soon pierce your façade stripping you naked for those already laid bare will want the same for you
child ain’t nobody gonna wash your laundry
those stains have been on your bed sheets for years and as much as you’d like they ain’t no turin shroud looks more to me like the face of a dying nation outlined in the blood of its fringe citizens but you do as you wish add some more bleach to make it as white as snow just like you’ve done everytime that stain for freedom reappears
Read Between the Minds 