Diatribe

Where in the heck has decency gone?
Who the devil do you think you are?
See, I could have said hell
Or even the f-word to show my displeasure,
Express my case.
But I choose demeanor
Instead of demeaning the question
With rhetoric’s unsavory flavor.

Stand on my soap box and
Rant until dawn, til
The silent Gestapo comes,
Hauls me away,
Places my poor shackled bones
In their prison
Muting my diatribe to hungry ears.

But I won’t be silenced.
My song will continue to
Ring past the walls of
This Gulag existence.
And you. Sir, should tremble
At your day of reckoning,
The day that the pendulum
Finds its way home.

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