Chasing the ghosts of Justice
It’s been awhile since I even went to word-press. This is my first post here.
I was invited to write poems or stories. The following poem was written in 2017. I was taking a class at the time. I am versatile so I could write a poem and listen to the instructor at the same time. The poem is about America. America is female. People in powerful positions have beaten us down and act like they just don’t give a fock about America. I mailed this poem to Senator Mitch Mcconnell last year along with a nicely worded letter. Did he respond?
Heaven’s no because what can he say against the truth of what he and other RINOS have done.
I also sent the poem to the Supreme court last Christmas because of what happened with our dishonest and fraudulent elections. Did they respond? Heavens no because they don’t care about justice or care about America. Without further ado…here is my first poem posted on Memorial Day, 2021.
Chasing the Ghosts of Justice ⓒ by Donna Rae Lands
Chasing the Ghosts of Justice, hidden from view…
Nights of wanting and haunting-surely overdue…
Counterfeit and stolen names…nothing surreal…
Changing seasons for varied reasons…
Games of shame…and stabs of pain…
Seeking their fortune and seeking their fame…
Lying and denying-spying every day…
She wails from her broken heart but who would know…
Only the dances healed her stolen soul…
It was truly a joke whenever she spoke…
Choosing her balance… with her eyes closed to grace…
Ghosts of injustice slap her… across the face…
The genteel elegance of the highest kind…
No virtues of honor…cowardice were chosen as their dignity sign.
Better to love and instruct…than to confuse and to corrupt…
The distinguished merit and badges of some sort…
Granting the prizes, labels, and decisions of some courtly tort.
The civil way to be for all to see…are chasing the Ghosts of Justice of today’s proper PC.
Satire, wit, and comedy seats are taken by participants, who are ever so loud…
They laugh at whoever shall wear the golden crown… amongst the people in the crowd…
Riding in the cloud of deception…
The bells were not rung-no trumpet sounds were found at the purple reception…
It was all a web of lies…Stripped while the naked wood cries…
Walking and talking became their je ne sai quoi….
Standing and ranting- preaching their rah, rah
Twas entertaining for the clapping people of the ta ta…and the haha…
Decency lost, all was embellished-whilst the Decorum was so greatly sought…
Clarification of the bottom of the barrel was to rot and it was always-always for naught.
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