“The Higher-Ups” by Samantha Tolleson
How do the bad ones keep getting away?
For more than forty years these people
have come to our capital.
Elevated to pedestal positions
never recalling the ones
who sent them there and why.
The longer they are there
the more their wagging lips lie.
Bureaucracy hell-bent to defy.
A speaker that is so unfit the
alphabet soup wrote her into their script.
The Department of Justice running lame.
Poor Flynn will skyrocket to heroic fame
but he'll never trust Uncle Sam the same.
The test shall be,
will he remain tame?
What ill fortunes to get stuck in yesterday’s dream —today.
Those fancies faded
Withered gray.
Time plays magnificent tricks
One would forget the wrongs we did.
Stuck in indecision
Sinking fast like quicksand.
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