people were asleep when tragedy erupted no rest to be found
for the woke, yet another cause to engage the masses, stir hearts invite others to do their part the irony of it not lost on those who paid the heavy cost misfortune used by profiteers will fill their pockets spreading fear so champions with motives pure are swallowed in the noise, obscured the reason for their angst, not clear
let them take the streets break out the crazies near and far to disturb the peace
For Ronovan’s Challenges this week, a few Haiku, prompt words Comfort & Erupt, and a Décima, prompt word Cause - A-Line Rhyme. THE QUICK DESCRIPTION OF HOW TO WRITE A DÉCIMA: 1. There are 10 lines of poetry that rhyme. 2. 8 syllables per line. 3. There is a SET RHYMING PATTERN we must stick to. ABBAACCDDC OR two stanzas of ABBA/ACCDDC.
if you survived this long, long year emerged this decade, deeply touched by global heartache, death and such, if you faced every day past fear to rise above, a kinder soul who cared for others, paid the toll, then you’ve a right to have a bash to celebrate, to breathe at last, to take your place as our heroes
full cold moon on ice shifting dark of night to light hope for the future
we shouldn’t be at all surprised when vile wolves disguised as sheep prowl the darkness while we sleep crooning dissonant lullabies that fill our foolish ears with lies we shouldn’t be surprised at all when silly sheep refuse to call these wolves the monsters that they are, to send them packing…au revoir! it won’t be long until they fall
dread of the future is fading away in waves dare to hope again
in the end there is only one left standing in the widening breach to mend our brokenness, to reach out, lead, to show us how it’s done by example, in compassion only one, though some may cast doubt one will be raised up, one cast out just like the seasons come and go every four years change comes, you know democracy, where each vote counts
when chaos lingers we trust our higher angels to restore balance
while people mourn the sick and dead trump proclaims ‘we’re rounding the turn’ there’s no end to the lies he churns he fills his sycophants with dread ‘it’s all a hoax, trust me instead… masks? wear them or not…you choose stop testing, silence the fake news!’ we’ll all soon have a choice to make we have a voice in what’s at stake this time we can’t afford to lose
clouds drench the hollow blooms of opaque gray matter obscure perception
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