355. Political Reform

Where are the hands which hold you here?

Which hold you to this land,

Of scorching concrete,

And vulgar deceit?

Where gavels scream every command,

Of the political elite.

Where are the hands which hold you back?

Which hold you in embrace?

The hands which act,

To make an impact,

Before time is lost without a trace?

Toward death the odds are stacked.

Where are the hands which hold you near?

Which hold your worth skin-tight?

Hands fall to find,

The world is unkind.

Countless die from depression’s heights,

Waiting for laws to be signed….

………..Waiting for a hand to hold.

K. Aldaya, 6/4/16

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