So many skate in this human race
A-cross the iced world of all surface
No depth.
What deepness? They sneer.
Shallow
“We see only ice that slides
By under our ‘bully’ shove
Of our steel.”
And their blades
Glisten in the winter’s sun
As they cut most humans off
From their care.
Their cuts that won't heal.
They lash past
All bundled in their parka of pride and self;
“Our nation, First, and one else;
To hell with the Kurds, poor refugees;
Wall them out,” they shout.
Acrobating a-cross
The frozen waste, millions lost
These masters of the TV Reality show
Play crack the whip with “huddled masses”
Ignoring the graved forms left
And the fading snow
Where deathly ice broke
Below
Sheol
Dan Wilcox
Please rise up, stand for the "huddled masses," and speak truth to these false masters of the show.
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