Colosus Corrosion

A cage of columns and seating,

‘Neath a ceiling of technicolor light

The crowd has gathered eagerly,

Cheering for the fight,

Ballot buttons in hand.

 

The throng stands,

The casual anthem is sung,

Walls awash with patriotic standard grand,

With adequate stimulus the populous perception

Is melded and twisted in any given direction,

Ballot buttons in hand.

 

In the center of the colosseum’s illuminated ring,

Our announcer cries,

Who’s your hero?

Let those ballot buttons go,

Come on, come on,

This is your show.

 

Champions,

Bull of the Bigots: Death Crush

And the eagle: Free Fall

Grapple,

Ballot buttons clicking all.

 

A precious few whose attention diverts,

Would see something is wrong,

Shouting and a struggle,

We’re sitting on a bomb!

Ballot buttons still clicking all.

 

The view screen falls for the meme of the hour,

And the crowd applauds for a photo of the startled Wizard of Oz,

“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain”

Ballots end their rant and they all begin the chant,

 

Red, white, and blue,

Red, white, and blue,

Red, white, and blue,

Red, white, and blue

 

I withdraw,

My mind fleeing unending noise,

And my heart begins to break,

From head to toe I am seized by terrified quakes.

What was so vibrant is now fading,

All degrading,

Without the slightest loss of well-rehearsed poise.

 

But there is hope in that world beyond what we hear and see,

In that place alone can we truly be free,

Red, white, and blue.

As they chant, take a stand on your knees,

Pray for this land.

 

Be with us as we live through the imminent explosion,

Lord willing,

May we the remnants survive the colossus corrosion.

 

This poem is about: 
My country

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