Sunday, August 26, 2018

Unwoven















Pound the world with your lies,
your avant-garde tries at distraction;
your predilection for chaos, the joy
you take watching others crumble:
there’s nothing humble about you.

How you take satisfaction—
throwing insults, no retraction:
you live in denial, just file it away.
Spreading the hypocrisy, dismantling democracy,
shifting the blame in this game that you play.

You claim no collusion while stirring confusion
at best you’re delusional,  spreading the fear.
We see through the hoax of your mirrors and smoke,
each story you’re spinning seems more absurd
your followers unswayed as they hang on each word.

You no longer hide that you’re trying to divide us
and we’re left to wonder “Who pulls the strings?”
Spreading derision with each repetition,
while faking the words to the song that you sing.
You’re good at complaining, better at blaming
but what will remain of those lies that you’ve spun?
The tales that you’re spinning will be your unpinning,
the web that you’ve woven is coming undone.

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Image: Charlie Parant Appetite for Photos  Used with expressed written permission.

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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.