By Robert G. Willner
Slogans and lies
Crack the skies
Like lightening bolts
Piercing our homes.
Where’s The Rage
No child left behind
Bush bill, bull
Stunted chances, stunted growth,
Children left behind, funds
Used for propaganda.
Where’s the Rage
Social Security to be privatized,
While government destroys the great social plan.
When the cereal runs dry,
Grandmothers will soak and
Eat the cardboard box.
Where’s The Rage
Praise for democracy, freedom and flag
Spout from thieves’ tongues.
They slander candidates,
Keep citizens from voting, and
Steal elections.
Where’s The Rage
A free press, part of our heritage
So they say, as they apply the
Shackles.
Media in fear, or
Cohorts in the rape.
Where’s The Rage
They legalize tax theft of billions,
Use our funds to deceive us, will let
Social Security, education and
Healthcare run dry.
Spend billions in war and
Send our young to die.
Where’s The Rage
Halliburton and the like grow richer.
Huge fees, gouging and stealing,
While GI hummers lack armor
Their vehicles and bodies ripped by
Iraqi insurgents and American privateers.
Where’s The Rage
The threat of WMD’s a lie.
What those who could see
Could not find, and
Soldiers
Left dead, torn and blind.
Where’s The Rage
No WMD’s so –
Switch –
Iraqi’s responsible for 9-11
No evidence so –
Switch –
There’s an Al Qaeda link
No honest answer -- “Why did we go to war.”
Where’s The Rage
Do you not see the
Torn and
Bloody limbs,
Body parts askew,
The dead,
The mother’s pain.
Where’s The Rage
See their bloodied stumps
Can you feel the pain?
Spouses’ and parents’
Retching grief
The young --
Dead
Beneath the flag.
WHERE’S THE RAGE
Writer Bob Willner, of Chatham, New York, has been an attorney and a former president of a drama company called StageWorks.
2 comments:
There's no rage because we're in a coma. And when we start to come out of it, we're anaesthetized. Lack of rage is the least of it. Is there life after birth?
I found out something exceedingly horrifying recently. There comes a point in one's psychology that dark humor, bitter laughs and cynicism at the irony of it all will one day implode, and the bitter humor found in the state of things today is lost. Now there could be a rage response after this moment but I find that the despair is akin to the kind that many calvanists felt at assessing their lives/faith. The implosion might have been a stroke nearly it hit me so hard.
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