gkpoetry

The frescoed vices painted on wet plaster
Ooze from mural walls to easily tear
Asunder culture’s fabric. A loud claim
For civil servants withers as the worm
Of power plagues our politicians’ work,
And they profess that we enjoy control.

This fraudulent pretense of our control
Creates the shop for them to shrewdly plaster
A surface over pandered ugly work.
Owning a chutzpah, shedding not a tear,
Watching our apple succumb to the worm,
They judge we’ll never prosecute our claim.

Assertiveness to justly from them claim
Some fitter mores sanctions cloaked control
And threatening attacks designed to worm
Paralyzing fear as botched fragile plaster
Noisily crumbles amid many a tear,
Airing the feculence imbuing their work.

Their stuccoed face of guile proceeds to work
Its tentacles of rot choking our claim,
And vacuous, their chatter fails to tear
A vent for noxious gases. Icky control
With clueless minions’ frantic work to plaster
Across lies and deceit should mask the worm,

But the apples’ brown mush reveals the worm
Has infiltrated corridors of work,
While we stood awed with patriotic plaster.
Hunger for power laid siege to our claim
For good leaders, and we ceded control
To flippant magpies shedding not a tear.

Voted extinction should force them to tear
Their eyes from power halting this vile worm,
Which commandeers their souls with blind control
Of every thought. Transparency in work
Would resurrect from ash our vetoed claim
And clear the rot and muck beneath the plaster.

Fracturing their control perchance will tear
Away plagued plaster, stamp hard on the worm
And force the work petitioned by our claim.