The ashes of our reverie
Remain to mark the foolhardy
Pursuits of leaders that care not
The destruction as long as their agenda
Prevails
In the cold, dead eyes of the unfortunate
Those who were forced to live the policies of the insane psychopathic
With the dark result of shattered light
Their souls departed as the evil proliferated
The humanitarian became the corrupt
The benevolent became the profane
With money, the coin that was sought
Paid for in the blood of the common man
Who believed a lie, thought he was free
But never was,
Taught to give his life for an illusion
In the hopes that things will change
A fools errand of the  insane
As century after century, the same actions taken
Hoping for a different outcome …
With the leaders being the only winners
And in the end, there was no one left to complain….
As the dead remained silent
And said nothing
At all

An Original Poem by H.R Beebe