Election Year

In the deep night there lies
a false twilight.
Morning creeps nigh
and I,
I am dreaming –
not of peace but of steaming war,
for I am not more than a monger.
I am stronger by nature
and brute by force.
My course is inevitable
as this country is irrevocable.
And I,
I am scheming
like an illness clinging to a child,
my grasp is anything but mild –
rooted in hatred
and founded in alienation.
And I,
I am one ungodly nation
under God,
where they pledge indivisibility
with a divided connotation;
where deceptive representation
brings liberty and justice for some.

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