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.