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Politick (Free verse) by Wakeboarder20 Three-piece suit, pressed and primed.
Cigar in hand and war on the mind.
Foreign policy is for the weak.
We call this man a politick.
We all stand apart
looking all around
but never open our eyes.
Warm and safe, hiding in his home.
Watching TV spellbound and mesmerized.
Knowledge is not the cup he seeks.
We call this man a politick.
We all stand apart
looking all around
but never open our eyes.
Lost within the maze of my mind.
Looking for cracks in the steel.
Know just enough to be dangerous.
I call myself a politick.
We all stand apart
looking all around
but never open our eyes.
Up the ladder:
Revised Dream (Final Version)
Down the ladder:
The Wish
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 2.5
Posted: October 30, 2006 2:40 PM PST; Last modified: October 30, 2006 8:17 PM PSTWeighted score: 4.8814354 Overall Rank: 9977 Comments:
[n/a]
half.italian @ 70.36.242.152
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31-Oct-06/3:30 AM
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Reply
We've all seen the three piece suit politician you're talking about. Cigars, briefcases, etc. A poem is much better if you make the point from a DIFFERENT angle. Lead us on a bit, make us work a bit to get to the solution.
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