Cross Fruited Plains The Wind Doth Blow

Cross fruited plains the wind doth blow

Though it seems we’ve lost our way.

When it will stop no one can know,

But it’s unlikely on that November day.

 

Our founders could not have foreseen the show

We see all around the clock.

Trump and Clinton round and round they go

For neither election’s a lock.

 

For one the issues seem no value to hold,

The other is wonky and stiff.

The first is cocky or so he’s been told,

Second each victory’s a gift

 

What have we done to get to this point, I really don’t know what to say.

This election is one that’s sure to disappoint, for the ones that don’t get their way.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

I Don’t Know What Truth Is Anymore

I don’t know what truth is anymore.

Our source of sanity has gone insane,

Their lies are sold to us like snake oil

And we are foolish enough to believe.

Informed citizens seem far and few between.

 

How sad…

Our founding fathers must be distressed

To see us floundering in this sea of lies.

Who will champion us back to reality?

Who has the courage to stand up to this lunacy?

I have no confidence in those who have been chosen!

They are but pawns or fools

Chosen by their parties, corrupt.

 

Something must change.

 

Revolution gnaws at our heels,

Begging us to submit.

Ask yourself…

When will we listen?

The opportunity has been laid at our feet,

But we have chosen to look away

Settling as we always do.

 

It looks like we will never learn.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Ambiguity

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Ambiguity

The lifeblood of politics

Flipping and flopping

&nbasp;

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~