When the middle of the road is muddy slick
so that the vehicles of truth get mired,
‘Tis then the vultures gather there to pick
among the helpless and the uninspired.
The wheels of progress spin but cannot grab
or gain a purchase ‘gainst the tide of war,
but spout mere rhetoric and useless gab
until the words don’t matter anymore.
And love? It is subsumed in mindless hate;
the doves of peace set on by hungry hawks
who speak of “help” but would decide our fate
while the whole world still argues and just gawks.
The future in such times is so unsure –
for who’s to judge whose motives are more pure?
21 JUN 2003
for LJ user stephanielynch