Hooves Clopping

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.