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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Political · #735411
A nation's struggle encapsuled in a haibun
I have to admit I wonder if politically, we, the mighty United States, have begun to fall. We are in economic decline, and socially, we're so betwixt properness and liberation we're practically neutral...

So I'll die in here
at the hands of those morons
that rule the nation.



Those morons have brought undue ends to hundreds of American lives. How could this happen, some ask. Others ask why. I used to ask, but when I saw nothing but blind, overwhelming support, I just laid down and cried.


I'm sittin' alone
without a clue on this Earth
if I will survive.




Survival, for me, was hardly a matter of physical concern but rather of mental, emotional stability. The war came at a time when I was down on my luck, in therapy, but also slowly losing support of the one that I deeply loved at the time. Oh, what cruelty it was to watch a nightmare come true as I struggled to regain my sanity.


The riot's tomorrow,
leaving all of us to die
idiots we are.



And death shall continue to reign over us, as we are abused internally, our mentalities and emotions coming under dangerous fire in a dangerous time. We, the people, are suffering for choices we did not make and could not make. Our only hope is that only one more year of this brute cruelty will be ours to stomach, only to hock it back up in a year's time.

And we shall prevail
to fight the errors we made
with our heads held high.

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