The State of Our Union
The Emperor
wanders his hallways at the White House,
a modern-day Nero screaming into an electric void
of his own construction, a gathering place for
the undiscerning, the shaken, the terrified.
*
Wears
his hatred like a badge of honor masking
his own impotence, every utterance against
his opposition a projection amplified by
the sycophants around him, each grasping for his approval.
*
No clothes
can hide the enormous cavern where his heart
should reside. No gilding can cover the place
where a soul has been stifled and rotted down,
the victim of an ego swollen by his own fear and sorrow.
*
What an achingly painful thing to see.
A raging narcissist at the helm of power,
a hurt little boy begging for his father’s approval,
while he blames The Others for his own agony,
and burns our country to the ground.
About the Creator
David Muñoz
I'm a recovering artist in Austin, Texas. Stoic student, mystic, writer, poet, guitarist, father, brother, son, friend. I am an eternal soul living a human experience. Part of that experience is working through my stuff by making art.
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