Thursday, February 2, 2017


Did you hear Lady Liberty cry when the stroke of his poisoned pen stabbed her in the heart?  Did you see the Liberty Bell’s crack widen and listen to its moan on that Black Friday when
blood ran on the oval office floor as the king showed the order to his smiling courtiers?

Before, were you there at the Electoral College when the needy, child-king was handed scepter and crown?
 Did you see the storm clouds over New York Harbor and Philadelphia’s liberty bell center on that Black Friday? Did you hear its chipped stones fall on the excluded refugees as lightening scorched the bell and the pain of the deported loved ones cried for mercy?

Did you watch the dark raindrops coldly extinguish Lady Liberty’s torch of warmth and welcome?
  His majesty will soon sign the papers to deport the bell and use a wrecking ball to smash Freedom’s Lady and the words of hope for those yearning to be free.  Like an addict hooked on heroin, this attention junkie child-king will get his fix through use of his pen. The fix won’t last.

His orders give him the spotlight adrenaline rush his emptiness craves.   But his sick soul cannot be filled.

Work by Keith Shirey

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