History mired in vicious propaganda,
overpowered by bone tree logic.
Sore losers contemplate the blood on the floor
of the house in the capital.
Graves of founders exhumed
with sharpened false accusations.
Striations of once vital common knowledge,
then ordered and methodical, now oblique.
Logic stumbling amidst such poor footing,
footsteps of patriotism retreating,
tyranny’s unshod hooves clopping.
Common courtesy’s tear stained letters
can’t be read anymore;
too cluttered with apostrophes and ampersands,
out of tune, out of time.