The newspaper said: I must condense
Be briefly sweet and less intense
They offered I could pay to be heard
Since they control the printed word
Then they confided as if to confess
They pay some writers who will say less!
Less of what’s true but more to buy
These puppets of the Corporate Lie
Reality is, you’re more apt to recall
A rhyming verse that’ll break your fall
Editorials are much harder to repeat
Pass on to friends like a song to speak
What is it they don’t want to show?
Poets defined this country you know?
Amazing Grace or ‘Tis of Thee
You’re slowly losing Miss Liberty
Stop the clocks and look around
Be the observer in this town
Demand less gossip and violent exposure
Stand up for peace in a loving composure
Enemy black blood smears like ink undried
Wash your hands of his cursed pride
The Judge and Jury shall not be US!
The Truth shall prevail in God I trust.
Ciera S. Louise c. March 06, 2005