I really will put the snark up on the shelf for a few days. Honest, I'm not addicted!
For one thing, it's probably not healthy for one's thoughts to dwell on the consequences of the deeds instigated by garbage brains and executed by incompetent, megalomaniac leaders.
On the other hand it is healthy, once thoughts have formed, to lasso them with words -- when we concretize thoughts into words it help to keep them under control.
As you know, in the Third Galaxy public debate as well as political power is not only manipulated, but is in many cases directly controlled and even owned by the Bankers of Illusion. They do not have the people's best interests at heart, in fact, they do not have hearts! How could they? They are not human! As long as there is access to sustenance and room in which to grow, they are essentially immortal beings. They exist by grace of judicial fictions that they are "persons" -- the individual human being has little recourse when confronted with the power of a MegaCorp.
Give thanks to the Great Potato that things are not like that in our world!
End of rant.
I will now reach down into "Ye Olde Poetry Bag" -- ah! What a fine little pebble this is, let's see what it looks like when it is polished up a bit!
Every time I think that I would publish,
every thing I've written turns to rubbish!
It's really not some kind of coquetry
on my part -- it's as if something in my belly
suddenly turns into blocks of black ice,
when I move to show these poems to other eyes.
As I write these lines and try to get them right,
the laughter burns, thorns into the night!
Who am I, that I should try to sing
about the gifts our spirit angels bring?
Who am I that I should try to sing of truth
and if I did, what would be the use?
I'm just a bird sitting on a fence,
singing my heart out at my own expense!