Wishing, Waiting, And Wanted Poem by Alfred Barna

Wishing, waiting, and wanted
My photograph in a dossier
Tormented apparition, I am haunted
By the things I see today
Freedom has become a fuzzy dream
When I awake it disappears
Like tired eyes that slowly stream
Reality comes, but to wipe the tears

Love of many has grown cold
Like a turtle drawn into his shell
Lack of respect for young or old
Welcoming the yawning gates hell
No trust, no love, no hope or faith
Mankind has made his bed of blood
Grinning shadows lurking like a wraith
Things just as they were before the flood

Wishing, waiting, and wanted
My photograph in a dossier
Tormented apparition, I am haunted
By the things I see today
Freedom has become a fuzzy dream
When I awake it disappears
Like tired eyes that slowly stream
Reality comes, but to wipe the tears

Fierce we are, and anger comes quick
Easily killed for the slightest of slights
Those left with conscience growing sick
Around every corner murder and fights
Oddly enough, they protest the violence
Launch drones in the dark against those who oppose
Killing children, running drugs, media silence
Plead gun control, yet the emperor has no clothes

Media grieves for the thieves
Pointing us, to hate the robbed and poor
Expecting us to wear hearts upon sleeves
Surveying, if Simon says; then we adore
Topsy turvy, laugh until you cry
Close your eyes to see the light
Don’t you dare ever ask them why
FISA, NDAA, Patriot wrongs make it right