Hearing The Bells Of A Nearly Scuttled Ship Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

A trickle that stops.
Maybe it has become blocked.
A clog in the wheels that our suppose always spin.
Time to get out the grease again.
A little maintenance, a little time and just maybe everything is brought back to this normality.
What is it we are trying facilitate by ignoring the problem?
Substitution that becomes diluted.
Watered down and useless.
The mistake we made was leaving you in charge.
A set of standards to adhere to they're now gone.
Forever we sail into the burning fire.
How close is it that you think we can get.
A burn on the skin has been done in such a way.
It will take years to heal.
Decision of the best and brightest so they say.
Breaking into a pattern thought to be in the past to be forever sealed.
Illusions of what we think is real.
Promises written on a single paper.
I can hear the sounds of the shredder.
The ship has been boarded and taken over.
Sometimes we have endure the time of pirates.
They can only steal so much.
Time to scuttle it.
Let it sink while one life boat is made available.
For the privileged.
A special class, that sits very high up on the shelf.
But as it floats away trust me, we will be okay.
Better off anyway, the fix is in.
Grab some boards hammers and nails.
The leak is no more.
Take aim, we will have our revenge.
Cannon balls fly, a blitz upon a darken night sky.
Destruction of a select few is what seems right.
The peoples justice isn't defined by this moment.
The rashness of freedom is a bell that must ring.