Walking in the twilight
among the headstones of history,
while navigating the tangled weeds
of political deception,
I pause
beside a fountain
polluted by the brackish waters
of fake news
that generates false reality.
I stare
at the distorted reflections,
grotesque caricatures,
of THEM,
perceived enemies
haunting the dreams
those in power.
I inhale the stench
rising from the egos
of politicians,
who want to bottle history
using their own recipes.
I feel the terror
and the loneliness
of the disenfranchised
watching history repeating itself.
Line Count: 25
Form: Free style with some rhyme.
Word Prompt: twilight, tangled, reflections, bottle, reality, dreams, deception, loneliness
Written for "Stormy's poetry newsletter & contest"
Deadline: August 15, 2018
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