World Mess Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
World Mess
Looking about, curious as to what is going on in the world,
wondering at the mess world governments have made of each
of our countries.
All of them having rich, greedy, evil people taking advent-
age of everyone, keeping them down, making them slaves by
giving free stuff so they will vote for them again.
Stupid people allowing it to happen, following like sheep
without a mind, wanting to be taken care of and coddled
like babies.
Letting themselves be traded for votes, instead of stand-
ing up for themselves and taking charge of their own
lives.
Not helping their wives or children find their way to
freedom, because they're teaching them all they have to
do is sit back with their hands out.
Being taken care of at other hard-working people's ex-
pense, a dastardly way to take advantage of good,
people struggling to take care of their own families.
If only we had governments that were as they should be, The way poets say and see the truth clearly, openly How much better off this crazy world would be. Great poem, summarizes, tells the bitter truth of the historic and present abuse of Dictators, Kings and some supposedly elected governments. Everyone should read it, they need it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/2/2024 4:55:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I concur with you and Sandra. This summer I've been reading Emerson and Thoreau - men of intelligence, wit and vision - and neither sought political power. And yet they could have been trusted with it. As it went, Emerson in philosophy, Thoreau in nature studies found what Walt Whitman addressed: O THOU TRANSCENDENT, NAMELESS, THE FIBER AND THE BREATH, LIGHT OF THE LIGHT, SHEDDING FORTH UNIVERSES, THOU CENTER OF THEM, THOU MORAL, SPIRITUAL FOUNTAIN - AFFECTION'S SOURCE.... (from PASSAGE TO INDIA, one of the greatest American poems)