Checks and Balances

Railing against invisible dreams,
invented uncorroborated and untrue.
Lies both large and small.
Peeking between outstretched fingers,
hands unable to shield the face –
A red-orange distortion of putrefying rage.
Who sees this – everyone sees this.
Who needs it – nobody needs it.
Are there no checks and balances anymore?
What happened to composure,
did it slink away and out the nearest exit.
Or did it hide beneath a chair,
and wait for the war to be over.
Or build itself a bunker deep below the soil
where the noise of earths destruction
plays out soundlessly above.

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