Take Me To Your Leaders
Why?
“Take me to your leaders”
Well that little spaceman said.
I said I’ll show you
What our leaders do
I’ll take you to our dead.
Crosses lined in rows and rows
All dressed up clean and white.
Quiet now from death’s last throes
Whom leaders sent to fight.
“Take me to your leaders”
That little spaceman did implore.
I said I’ll show you
what our leaders do.
I’ll take you to our poor.
They’re deathly fat not deathly thin
Malnourished to the full.
The screens the means to cause such scenes
A masterclass in pull.
“Take me to your leaders”
Little spaceman said again.
I said I’ll show you
what our leaders do.
I’ll take you to our men.
To see the hooligans all drunk
No chests, no enterprise.
A sea of porn their minds are sunk.
An entertained demise.
“Take me to your leaders”
Once again I heard him speak.
I said I’ll show you
What our leaders do.
I’ll take you to our weak
Abandoned and forgotten old
Confined to end their lives.
And millions more with lives untold
Expunged before arrived.
“Take me to your leaders”
Said the spaceman with an irk.
I said I’ll show you
what our leaders do
I’ll take you where we work.
Enslaved and bled of family time
And always pushed for more.
A number for the profit line
Discarded like a whore.
“Take me to your leaders”
Now with restless eyes a skimmin’.
I said I’ll show you
what our leaders do.
I’ll take you to our women.
Tough and smart and smashed glass ceiling
Free and independent.
Tuna salad weight concealing
Shame if not resplendent.
“Take me to your leaders”
“There is no more to discuss”
I said I’ll show you
what our leaders do.
I’ll take you to see us.
The darkened hearts and emptied souls
Consumed by looks and greed.
We like to blame those with controls
Not us who follow leads.
About the Creator
Dane Fuller
My life is a cage but on the page I'm free.
Stories, poetry, anecdotes, thoughts.
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Llion the Brave Version 2
Her screams diminished as Llion was dragged away from the cell. The stench in the corridor was less but there was still damp, decay, defecation, death. His feet dragged, like a raggedy puppet, the guard either side of him holding him fast. He could feel their individual fingers digging into his scant flesh, leaving their impression on his bones.
By Rachel Deeming7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Dazzling job!
Wonderful poem! Loved it!