There was a time when I believe in you,
believed you were great, I overlooked
the tarnish on your soul, the blemishes
that you had acquired with your position.
Then you stumbled, you sprawled
in the ditch of politics, the sewer
of corruption, a belligerent narrow
minded corridor of greed, of deception.
I am ashamed for you, feel pity for
those you hurt, those that you deem lesser,
those that seek justice, only to find
grievance cast upon the rocks of self interest,
bigotry, religious indifference, hate.
You call yourself a person of the people,
yet you only people your hollow person,
an illusion of ego, a festering pox,
diseased by conceit, hiding an intolerant
pornographic personality of megalomania.
Do the world a favor: leave, adios, so long,
sayonara, take a hike, abscond with your bag
of lobbyist promises, and kiss our
collective up turned posterior goodbye.
©2016, Donald Harbour
Donald Harbour Poetry 